


Protect me from crimson dreams

by ToyBoxOfSuz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Assassins & Hitmen, Beta Peter Hale, Blood, Bodyguard, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Human Scott McCall, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Panic Attacks, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-05-15 04:58:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 61,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5772184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToyBoxOfSuz/pseuds/ToyBoxOfSuz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles' father hires new security: Hale and Co. Agents. Werewolves. Taken how the supernatural is treated, it's a risky step and they all know that a lot depends on their work, taken they are protecting a high politican who is fighting for the rights of supernatural creatures... But Stiles really doesn't give a damn when he's trapped in his house, surrounded by bodyguards with a psychopath called Peter Hale amongst them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 2015 NaNoWriMo project ahoy!
> 
> I always loved the bodyguard trope and always wanted to write PeterStiles for it and see how it could work. Well, it can't, it's a disaster. XD
> 
> Also, new beta: Miisha, who I owe so much. <3

„What do you want?”

“I wanna…” Stiles started with a chuckle. He threw his head back, just to bang it against the wall. But no, it wasn’t a wall… was it? It was a wall of a stall. Maybe? It hurt a little and it made him dizzy. That, or the tequila before, or the beer before that. Maybe those two cocktails earlier. Or the wine at the beginning. Maybe the wine.

“Boy, tell me what you want.”

Someone was talking to him and Stiles could only just laugh and cling to his shoulders. It was a he. Someone with strong shoulders. Stiles chuckled again even if all he wanted was to cry.

“I wanna…” he started again, trying to open his eyes and look at the other. “I wanna suck your dick.” He laughed, his hands dropping down to find the hem of the stranger’s pants.

“Do you, now?” the voice snickered and Stiles felt his hands being grabbed and pressed against the wall of the stall. “And then what, huh? What will you do then?”

“Wha…?” Stiles asked, frowning as he tried to look at the stranger again, properly this time. “I… and then we fuck?” he asked.

“Most probably, yes.” The man nodded, looking at him with blue eyes which made Stiles’ stomach drop. “And then what?”

“An’ then…” Stiles groaned, closing his eyes. He had no idea why this guy was asking these questions. What was happening anyway, where was he?

Oh yes. He remembered. He wanted to let go. He wanted to hurt, to destroy to just fucking burn it all and make the pain go away.

“That’s right, it has no point, has it?” Stiles heard the man talk. “Think about it boy, why are you here?”

“My mother…”

“Your mother?”

“My mother died… she died… they- they killed her, she was…” Stiles rambled suddenly, weak against the stranger’s grip. He was still holding him tight and firm.

“And the best way to cope with that is to trash yourself in a shitty club and suck a dick?” the man asked and Stiles felt sick.

“Yes!” he shouted before he could stop himself.

“No.” the man retorted shaking him, which made Stiles sober up just enough to look at the man again. He wasn’t laughing anymore, but he was scared, angry and overwhelmed. “You don’t destroy yourself, you go and destroy those who dared to do this - who dared to hurt her, who dared to have the thought of harming her or your family.”

“Revenge?” Stiles asked, muttering. His lips went dry and his hands felt cold from the grip the man had on his wrists.

“Indeed.” the stranger said, blue eyes too intense for Stiles to look into them too long. “Find them and destroy them, boy. They are those who need to suffer and not you.”

Stiles frowned, his vision doubled from the effort of looking at the stranger but it was harder by the second. He was getting sick to the point of throwing up and he had no damn idea what was happening. He remembered white walls and hands holding his wrists. He remembered a chuckling, deep voice and a scent. A sweet scent which he couldn’t exactly compare to anything.

He remembered waking up on the stairs of the mansion, his father hugging him and shouting at the same time, still wearing the same black suit he had on during the funeral. During his mother’s funeral. Stiles didn’t remember what he was shouting, but he figured it was better that way, he didn’t want to know how much he disappointed his father anyway…

\--

It’s been three years since then and Stiles still tried to figure out the mystery of his drunken adventure of the night of his mother’s funeral along with the actual killer of his mother.

His mother was murdered three years before, but the threats, the danger started way before that. Stiles didn’t remember exactly when supernatural creatures have suddenly revealed themselves to humans and then demanded rights. He actually never followed the politics of it. He was seven or eight and all he wanted to just play Pokémon, eat candy and not take his medicine. But his parents, mostly his mother, were working on something ever since it was clear that the supernatural issue had to be tended to.

Stiles grew up in a household that told him people and humanoid creatures may be different, but they still can live together in harmony and without overpowering or oppressing one another. He had met many people whom other humans would just call “creatures” and he was always told to call them by their names. Stiles knew the importance of this, he knew that calling someone by their names meant that they acknowledge them and respect them. Stiles grew up respecting all people and supernatural beings. And he thought it was fine, that it was what everyone wanted.

One day, he was escorting his mother to a newly opened establishment which would welcome humans and supernatural creatures and treat them equally. It supposed to be a routine meeting: his mother would make a speech then cut the ribbon, they drink champagne and go home. It was supposed to be like that. Stiles was used to cheers and even booing during the speeches but he never actually paid too much attention to that. His life was like a silent movie until then: things were being orderly, just as they should be. But this day, the sounds became louder, the colors became more vivid, especially the reds…

Stiles remembered that he was getting out of the car behind his mother when he heard the earsplitting sound. He knew the sound, he heard it many times in movies. It was a gunshot. Back then he had no idea, later he found out it was a .44 Magnum and it was messy. He heard the shot, then felt warm liquid hitting his face and neck. His mother’s blood. He looked up just to see something red and alarming and definitely fatal. The crowd was screaming and shouting and there were more gunshots and Stiles didn’t even understand what happened just yet. When he realized it, someone pushed him back inside the car and slammed the door on his face. He saw his mother’s body fell on the ground as the car drove away and that’s when he started to scream. Stiles thought he was screaming. He had no idea. It was like waking up from a nightmare with a sore throat but not remembering the screaming.

Everything has been more vivid and red and scary since then. And Stiles was scared and shaking and frustrated that he didn’t see this coming. That if he just paid more attention it would have never happened. He couldn’t look into his father’s eyes for months as if he himself was the one shooting his mother and causing all the disasters.

Supporting the supernatural has become a dangerous sport since then and his father said he was thinking about quitting but he never did. He preserved. And Stiles knew it was for his mother’s sake, so that she didn’t die in vain and that gave him hope too. He tried to get himself together and pay more attention.

Stiles never forgot the funeral; it was black and white and still had the most colors he remembered seeing. He was glad there were not many red flowers, because red always made him anxious ever since he saw it bleeding out of his mother. It made him remember too vividly and it was unbearable.

Stiles never forgot the night of the funeral either. He didn’t stay, he practically escaped. He had no idea what he was doing, but the wine from the reception was doing strange things to his already disturbed mind and before he knew it was ordering his third cocktail at some bar and clung to a stranger who dragged him into a filthy bathroom. Stiles was a virgin then, but he still knew what was supposed to happen and what will happen. And yet, instead of flirts and dirty talk, the stranger whispered into his ear to seek revenge and slay the enemies who killed his mother one by one. It was like one of his inner demons decided to stop whispering and come alive to tell him what to do instead of the childish play he was starting… And it was scary and it haunted Stiles’ dreams and days even.

And yet, three years later, he was indeed seeking his enemies, his family’s enemies and the people in the country who had anything against the supernatural. Stiles knew every dirty little secret of the senate and his hard drives contained information which could have ended the system in three days and yet, he just kept it for himself, waiting. Because he still didn’t find the one, the one who gave the order to shoot his mother. The assassin was overly professional and killed himself right after the act. He wasn’t doing it for the money, it seemed like he was killing for the principle. And that made things more dangerous.

People told Stiles it will be impossible to track the person who gave the order, but he didn’t give up. He never wanted to. Somewhere deep down he was convinced that everything will be better if he would just _knew_ who it was… He needed it. Stiles felt like a half person, someone who was just scattering around - with no arms or legs - without the only vital information he needed.

After three years he still haven’t gotten close to his mother’s killer…

“Hey, watch it…!” Stiles hissed as he turned after the guy bumping into him. He didn’t like him. In fact, he didn’t like any of the fuckers hanging and running around in the house today. He knew something was up and that it has to do with the new monitoring system being set up. Stiles knew it must have been connected to their security chiefs rumored resigning.

Stiles never liked too many people in the house. It gave him an urge to claw out his insides and hide in dark corners. Crowds intimated him more than he admitted it to anyone. Crowds had the potential to be deadly, just like on that day… and Stiles will never forget that. More people meant higher danger factor.

“You watch it.” Lydia was snapping from next to Stiles. “You’ve been buried in your tablet ever since you granted us with your awake hours and it’s rude to still stick to it while walking, Mr. Stilinski.”

Oh no, Lydia was using his official title. Stiles cringed and looked at her, hurrying next to him. Same age as him, yet already with a university degree and gaining experiences as his father’s personal assistant and PR manager. Stiles was jealous only a little. Lydia Martin had the wits, the brains and the courage to go big and she went for it. In a few years, Stiles figured, she will have her own post and make big things come true. Just like his mother would…

“I was researching.” Stiles tried the ever old excuse and of course Lydia didn’t buy it. He smelled of whiskey and he thanked the gods Lydia couldn’t tell he still had some Adderall hidden away in his mattress.

“Good, then you know why your father is calling for you.” Lydia smiled at her with that tight, murderous smile which showed she wasn’t too comfortable either with so many strangers in the house.

“I guess he has an explanation for all this.” Stiles sighed, turning off his tablet as he entered his father’s office. Lydia walked with him as well, handing some files to Mr. Stilinski before leaving. Stiles licked his lips then he opened his mouth to greet him good morning, just to realize it was already way into the afternoon. And he really hoped it was a Saturday and not a Friday so he doesn’t have to listen to yet another speech about missing school from his father.

“Hi, Dad.” Stiles managed, swallowing as he was watching his father open one of the files Lydia brought him. He didn’t start the speech about school yet. Good. So maybe it was a Saturday. Or a Sunday. Stiles refused to get his tablet to check the date.

“Stiles, good to see you awake.” Mr. Stilinski started, looking up from his papers.

“Anything for you.” Stiles shrugged, looking around the room. It was the old office his father had ever since he started his political career. It was neat and tidy with boring books and useless statues, medals and framed papers. When his mother was alive there were usually flowers around too, but ever since then it was just plain old, dead wood. The only thing that could remind Mr. Stilinski of his late wife was a picture of her on his desk.

“You have no damn idea what’s going on here, with all these people, do you?” Stilinski challenged him and Stiles pursed his lips. He cleared his throat before he spoke.

“You told me you will change our current security system, upgrade it, actually. So these people must be here to tinker with cameras, bugs and other high-tech shit we probably don’t need.” Stiles said.

“Good, I just checked if you were paying attention.” His father smiled, sitting up from his chair. “These are the guys I hired. I decided it was time we had more bodyguards.” he added as he passed the file to Stiles. The boy frowned a little and put his tab on the desk to take the file from his father. He opened it and quickly scan the papers.

“Hale and Co. Agency?” he asked frowning. “I’ve never heard…” he started, but then his eyes caught something. “Uh, Dad?”

“Yes, son?” Mr. Stilinski was smiling so he must have already known what Stiles wanted to point out.

“These people… well, all of these people…”

“Yes?”

“They are werewolves.” Stiles looked up, frowning. Their security will be in the hands of an agency which is working with werewolves. Wolves will be guarding their house and them. “Are we ready for this… Can we do this?” the boy asked quietly.

“Well…” his father crossed his arms, seemingly expecting the question and already having an explanation too. “I believe it was the next step, Stiles. This is not just for our security, this is a statement. That we trust them with our personal safety.”

Stiles swallowed, reading the summary of the Agency, but not really paying attention to it. He was thinking about his father’s words. A statement. He took a deep breath and looked up at his father. His mother’s death made all their efforts almost come to a stop, because humans and supernaturals were afraid that if they push the matter further there will be consequences beyond worse. Mr. Stilinski was still trying to go on and show that this is exactly why they need to acknowledge the supernatural. The fact that they hired werewolves as their security guards meant that they finally reached the same state when Mrs. Stilinski was killed.

“And do we?” Stiles asked quietly the same time when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in.” Mr. Stilinski called instead of answering to Stiles. The boy huffed, closing the files as his father’s guests entered. Ever since the Incident he tried to pay more attention to his environment, to the people he greeted and got close to him. So it didn’t take Stiles long to realize that the two men that entered were from Hale and Co. They were wearing their nametags and the badge all werewolves were mandatory to wear. Something Stiles and his family were fighting a lot to stop.

Their nametags wrote D. Hale and V. Boyd and while they were definitely from the agency, Stiles wondered if they were moonlighting as models. Or maybe the handsome features were a werewolf trait. But it mustn’t be the case, because his best friend Scott McCall was also a werewolf and he looked like trash, no matter what anyone said… Really.

“Derek, I’m glad you could spare a few minutes for me today.” Mr. Stilinski smiled walking to the man with the greenish eyes, black hair and an incredible stubble. It was the first Stiles noticed on him, because he was trying to grow it out also, but it looked like someone planted hair on the wrong places of his face and neglected all the rest. It was a thing he always hated, not having an awesomely sensual stubble. Maybe when he finally becomes twenty he will have the well-deserved stubble but he still had one year until then.

“It’s never a problem Mr. Stilinski, we’re here for you and your family’s safety after all. We’re at your disposal.” Derek didn’t smile when he was talking and shaking Stilinski’s hand. He was professional and confident, everything Stiles just aimed to be. “Let me introduce my right hand in operations, Vernon Boyd. He’s my second in command. I also left his contact details next to mine in the files.” Derek said, his eyes flickering over Stiles for a moment. Boyd just nodded with a polite smile and Stiles could see why this man chose him as second in command. He seemed lethal and not someone he would engage in a fight, despite his smile… Actually neither of these people were someone Stiles wanted to meet as their enemy.

“Perfect, Derek. I’ll look into it.” Mr. Stilinski smiled, nodding. “Please also meet my son.“ he said, motioning to Stiles. “He’s not exactly my right hand but the most precious person to me.” He said and the boy felt a slight embarrassment. Why would his father tell this to strangers?! He felt his cheeks burn as he sent a halfhearted glare at his father.

“I’m his precious left hand, okay?” Stiles tried to save his reputation, but he caught the slight smirk on Boyd’s lips. Derek just checked him like he was cargo he will have to carry. Professional indeed.

“I also prepared a file for you with all the necessary information you need to know of our main colleagues. In case you have any questions, you can find my and Boyd’s contact details in that file.” Derek told Stiles. “However, we’ll be busy with keeping the house secure so I’d like to ask you to only contact us in case of a security emergency.”

“Excuse me?” Stiles frowned, gaping. Derek was extremely professional about it, but he basically called him a brat who would need babysitting.

“We’re here to work and to protect.” Derek raised an eyebrow. “And we will do just that.” he turned to Mr. Stilinski, clearly waiting for dismissing. The man just smiled and nodded at them.

“Yes, please go. I don’t want to keep you longer. I got the weekly schedule too, so I believe we’re all set.” Mr. Stilinski said. Derek nodded and quickly left the office with Boyd.

“Charming people.” Stiles remarked dryly as they left.

“Derek Hale is our head of security now, Stiles. I expect you to give him all the help he needs, as he’s doing a good service for us. Don’t chase them away as you did with the others.”

“I wasn’t chasing anyone away!” Stiles snapped. He was just making sure the incompetent idiots were ready to protect them. He was testing them and not chasing them away. “Where did you find them anyway?” Stiles asked to change the subject, frowning. He was looking into security agencies for a while now, but he never heard of Hale and Co. before and it unnerved him. Yet again he overlooked something.

“Claudia was… she had a friend back in Beacon Hills, Talia Hale.” Mr. Stilinski said. “I looked her up the other day.” he said curtly, clearly not wanting to go deeper into it. Which was fine, Stiles can find out all the answers anyway.

When Stiles left his father’s office, he was more awake than ever in the past few weeks. His father gained back his followers, the support for supernatural equality was growing stronger along with his father's supporters which meant that they will be targeted again. This time it will be his father, probably. After three years, they were a threat to a few groups again and their world was becoming darker and redder. And they put their safety in the hands of werewolves…

“So, your father told you everything, right?” Lydia asked, making Stiles jump. He had no memory from when he left his father’s office, he was too busy thinking. But apparently, he was already going somewhere, with his tablet in hand.

“Yeah, he- he, uh, told me about Hale and Co. and I met Hale too. He seems a bit young to run an agency like this.” Stiles frowned and took his tablet to look up Hale and Co., especially Derek Hale.

“Werewolves tend to look younger than their actual age.” Lydia helped with a tight smile. “Alright, you go and get all paranoid over these people and meanwhile I’ll call the school.”

“Okay, I wi—what? Why- why would you call the school? Which school?” Stiles frowned, looking up from Derek Hale’s bare Facebook profile. Lydia squinted at him, seemingly not sure about his confusion.

“Your school. About arranging your private tuition? Your father didn’t tell you?” she asked, stopping in her tracks. Stiles also stopped, still looking at her as if she was talking to him in archaic latin, which she sometimes did.

“No, no, he didn’t.” he muttered. “What’s this about?”

“Well, apparently Hale advised against you going to school daily, saying it’s a huge security risk and from tomorrow, you’ll have home school until further notice.” Lydia sighed, tilting his head at Stiles. “Since most of the atrocities in the past happened when you were leaving or coming back from school.” she added.

Stiles was aware of that fact, yes. Part of the reason he sometimes skipped school was to avoid the stress that going to school meant. With the security before this, it was a nightmare. Though nothing bad happened. A few vegetables or fruits were thrown, there were sometimes a crowd shouting profanities… but nothing particularly bad. Stiles was almost getting used to it already. But now, all that was gone, because Hale wasn’t going to bother with getting him to school?

Stiles didn’t reply just looked still at her with wide eyes and speechless. It wasn’t a good expression and Lydia knew that. “Hey, isn’t this what you wanted? Stiles, you barely went to school anyway.”

“Yes, but-“ Stiles started, shaking his head and pulled away when she reached for him. “But it’s not- I have friends there!”

“Scott, you have Scott there.” Lydia said, pointing out how unpopular Stiles really was despite him being the son of a high ranked politician. It didn’t count in senior high. Maybe in a good, private school it could have mattered but not in his. Actually it was his mother who insisted for him to go to a normal, middle class high school and experience the school life there. He was bullied the moment they realized he was rich and his parents were the Stilinskis. The family name could not be hidden. “He can come to visit anytime.” Lydia added gently.

“But it isn’t gonna be the same!” Stiles snapped spreading his arms, looking around at all the people puttering. Technicians, Hale and Co. members, strangers. All strangers. This house was full of strangers; it never had fresh flowers anymore or anything resembling family. Only strangers. Strangers came and went and this house was a damn cage and Stiles hated it. He loved the times when he had the energy to collect himself enough to go to school and meet Scott and just exist. Talk about girls and boys and homework and teachers and anything but the house and his father…

“Stiles, this isn’t just for your safety.” Lydia said quietly but firmly. “This is for your father, your family. He doesn’t show it, but he’s just as scared as you, maybe even more so.” She said, reaching out to grab Stiles’ arm to make him listen. She tilted her head to look into his eyes, and Stiles wanted to just surrender under the strict, green gaze that greeted him. “Mr. Stilinski is the one that has to go out there, to preach for equality, for _our_ equality.” Lydia said with passion she rarely showed. It made Stiles speechless. “He’s doing it after he lost half of his family. He’s close to lay down the first bricks of a better world and meanwhile he puts himself and his only family at risk, just because not everyone wants the supernatural to be equal.”

“Lydia…” Stiles muttered, but she shook him a little. She wasn’t done yet. Her green eyes were fierce and in that moment Stiles was more afraid of her than he was from Hale and Boyd.

“You do as your father tells you. You will stay here, stay safe until this shit-storm passes and then you can have your ways again. This isn’t about what you want, Stiles, rather what the people need.” she said, letting him go finally. Stiles licked his dry lips, still staring at her. “I hope we’re clear. Are we?”

“Yeah…” he cleared his throat, nodding.

“Good, then I arrange everything. You can go back to sleep if you want.” she dismissed him and hurried away a bit too fast. Stiles figured she was also a bit embarrassed over her reaction. It supposed to be a simple thing, but it wasn’t. It involved many. But he still hated the fact that now he was forbidden also to go to school and he will talk to his father about this… soon.

But first, he needed all the information on Hale and Co. and their staff and the gadgets they wanted to plant their house with. Stiles noticed they are taking off the old cameras and microphones, so maybe they have brought their own high tech equipment. It meant that his father was really making sure that the house is safe and prepared for anything. Great, now Stiles will have to live in a reality show. Though, he wondered, maybe he was already living in one.

The other reason he went to check exactly where they put cameras and microphones, because he knew that trade secrets are kept safe, even from the people who have hired them. Stiles knew it was also routine, because if only the agency knew where the cameras and bugs were it was more difficult to breach it. He caught some weak spots near the kitchen and the back garden, which was good. Usually the garden was the way Scott sneaked in. None of the securities could catch him before and Stiles will make sure Hale and Co. won’t either. It wasn’t that Scott couldn’t visit them anytime, but there was something rebellious in the way that he was sneaking in the house and not come by the front door.

Stiles also did his research on Hale and Co. He found that the agency has been established by Talia Hale, who was Derek Hale’s late mother. There were not many records on the family, aside from a fire that burned their house down. Most of them were official information on their agency and on the members. Stiles had to admit Hale and Co. did their homework. It would take serious research for someone to get to know anything about their deeper history. Which he was good at. No one could hide from him. Except the one person he really wanted to find…

\--

Even though it looked like Stiles was always sleeping, he barely went to bed. His mind was constantly buzzing and working and swirling around, making him lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling and thinking about everything in the universe. For him, it seemed like he was always thinking about everything all the time and sometimes when it has gotten too much he took out the bottles or the medicine. Sometimes both. One time, only one time he was going for drugs, but the current head of security has caught him and made him confess to his father and Stiles decided no amount of sweet euphoria would worth prison or that utterly disappointed stare of his father and everyone involved. Even Scott stopped talking to him for a week and that hurt more than anything. Ever since then, Stiles tried to keep it light, even on long, red nights he wished he would had something stronger to dull his mind with.

This night was the same. He couldn’t sleep, but thankfully he could manage with some beer. Sometimes the thought that he has some alcohol in his system was enough and he didn’t want to think about how wrong that sounded.

Stiles sat by his desk in front of two monitors connected to a PC and a laptop, doing research. He had the equipment to search the deep web without any causalities and when he learned how to navigate he wasn’t in any danger. Though he already spend three hours to breach Hale and Co.’s firewall in a way they wouldn’t notice. Whoever was responsible for their internet safety they were doing hell of a good job and Stiles would have been impressed in any other case. But right now it was more than annoying. Most of the information he was dealing with has come from the deep web and without the access he felt even more helpless than usual.

“Fucking bitch!” Stiles hissed when his latest attempt to breach the firewall has failed. He leaned back in his chair and reached for his beer.

“Uh… Stiles?” he heard a voice. And he knew it was Scott’s voice, but barely registered the tone of it. So Stiles just turned his chair around to greet his friend who most probably sneaked into his room. Again. But the smile froze on his lips when he realized why Scott sounded so scared.

The first thing Stiles recognized that there was a gun aimed at his friend’s head. It wasn’t a Magnum, it was a 9 mm, he couldn’t remember the type. But he knew that from that distance the bullet would go through Scott’s head like hot knife in butter and he already saw the blood splatter it would cause. It would be fatal and messy. And without thinking, Stiles dropped his beer and launched toward Scott. He grabbed him and turned them around so he was between the gun and his friend.

Stiles was sure that the gun will be fired, but it wasn’t. So the next thing he did was to see who has their finger on the trigger. His head started to hurt from the speed his mind was working on the visual information he was getting. They were facing a man, in their late 30’s, only a bit taller than Stiles, wearing a plain, black suit. He was a werewolf judging by the mandatory pin they had to wear. He was called P. Hale, he was—

And then Stiles felt the cold touch of the gun on his forehead and his mind went blank. However, what he was feeling was not fear, not exactly fear. It was rage. He felt rather than heard his teeth clatter together from the way he was shaking.

The wolf was looking at him with cold, blue eyes yet his lips were pulled into a smirk that Stiles just wanted to smack.

“Mr. Stilinski, I believe we have an intruder in the house. I must, by protocol, start the alarm and evacuate. Also, I need to take him to custody.” The man spoke suddenly, yet he didn’t move his gun from Stiles’ head.

“He’s my friend, he’s Scott McCall, and he’s on the fucking list we gave you!” Stiles shouted before he could stop himself. Because he realized that this man in front of him was working for Hale and Co. He was supposed to be a security agent, a bodyguard and yet he was the most dangerous thing to their lives at the moment. Stiles really wished he had access to his information sources in time so he would know who the fuck this guy was. And if he really was working for Derek Hale.

“Huh.” The man smirked. “I should have checked the files more… thoroughly. I wasn’t aware Scott McCall was supposed to jump the fence, run through the garden and climb the wall to your room, Mr. Stilinski.”

“It was always working before!” Scott started and Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but their guard was faster.

“He’s also breaking the law by not wearing the werewolf pin.” he said. Stiles frowned.

“It’s only mandatory over 21.” Scott retorted weakly, but of course the law that every supernatural creature was supposed to wear their relevant badge will be enforced soon for every creature regardless of age. If Stiles’ father won’t do anything about it, and Stiles knew for a fact that his father was working hard on the badge issue.

The guard kept his gun pressed against Stiles’ forehead for a worryingly long time. Stiles wondered if he will faint before he will get a panic attack or first the panic attack and then the fainting or if he could punch this jerk before all that. He was still worried that this guy was just good at pretending that he was working for Hale and Co. Stiles really felt naked and helpless without the research he wanted to do. For the last three years he was doing all kinds of research; on people, places, guns and yet he had no damn idea what type was pressed against his head.

And then Hale moved and Stiles felt his whole body ready for death or pain or something very red. But none of that hit him only the quiet snort of the guard.

“Next time I catch him sneaking through the garden, I’ll shoot him without question. As protocol.” the man said as if he was just chatting and put the gun away. Stiles said nothing, just stared at him still with the adrenaline still rushing through his veins. Everything was still in slow motion, still looking like he was watching a movie where something will happen. But all that happened was their guard has left the room with slow, soundless steps.

“Fuck…” Stiles heard Scott exhale behind him. “I didn’t hear him at all. Not even when he left…” he muttered.

As Scott was talking Stiles finally emerged from his shock.

“You’re such a shitty werew—“ he started when it finally occurred to him. Stiles gaped and jumped to run toward the door of his room, after Hale. But as he looked out there was no one there. It seemed like the guy wasn’t even there at all, like a nightmare. Maybe it was. Maybe he was indeed a nightmare. But then how come Scott has seen him too? Also, nightmares are not such jerks.

“Stiles, what…?” Scott started when his friend came back to the room, just to slam the door the hardest he could.

“He was fucking with us!” Stiles shouted then. “He didn’t start the alarm, he knew from the beginning you’re allowed in the house!” he said, spreading his arms at Scott. The wolf’s eyes widened too.

“He pulled a gun on me!” he gasped.

“He fucking did, he pulled a fucking gun to fuck with us!” Stiles heard his voice nearing a shriek at this point. All the shock and the fright left him shaken and angry. “Jesus Christ, man. This guy…”

“Who was he again?” Scott asked, frowning as Stiles went to his desk again, leaving the beer where it landed on the floor and now soaking into the carpet.

“Hopefully someone from the new security or so help me…” Stiles hissed, typing furiously on his keyboard. “Did you come the way I told you?”

“You know I did. And that fence was high, I didn’t even know I could jump it!” Scott huffed, throwing himself down on Stiles’ bed.

“And you didn’t hear anything, anyone?” Stiles asked hitting Enter like a madman.

“Dude, I didn’t! There was no one around, no bugs, no cameras just like you said. Then again I didn’t hear that guy walk when he left! He must be a new type of android.”

“Scott, oh my god, let’s not go there!” Stiles gasped, turning to his friend with his chair. “He was a fucking werewolf, you saw the pin—“

“I saw the pin, okay?! All I see are the fucking pins!” Scott snapped so suddenly that Stiles stopped speaking too. “I hate that pin.” the wolf added, muttering as he leaned back on the bed. Stiles took a deep breath as he was eyeing his friend. That pin showed how society was handling werewolves, or other supernatural beings. That pin was the symbol of it. Every creature had to wear it to show humans what kind of beast they were. Sometimes it was obvious, for creatures which could not shift into a humanoid image, but mostly for shapeshifters the badge was mandatory. Like a stigma. Stiles saw and knew how people handled creatures with badges: they either feared them or the opposite, hurt them. Of course the pin was also a huge disadvantage during numerous situations: applying for welfare, applying for jobs… They were not equal, not yet - Stiles liked to think - because his father was working hard for their equality.

“Sorry.” Stiles muttered, because at this point he could not do anything. He was too weak for this fight. “God… I don’t know who this guy is, their firewall doesn’t let me access the deep web.”

“That’s good, I was always afraid you’ll end up without your liver after one of the times you access it…” Scott sighed.

“Scott, I know how to handle it, okay? I just need some information.” Stiles huffed.

“Will you come to school soon?” the wolf asked suddenly. Stiles licked his lips, looking at his spilled beer, feeling utterly tired. The shock has passed, now there was Scott here and the guy has left too and everything seemed fine just a little.

“No. I’ll switch to home school.” Stiles sighed.

“Man, I wish I could do that.” his friend said and Stiles snorted.

“And stay at home with your mother all the time?”

“Oh… wait, maybe I really don’t.”

“See.”

“I love mom, though, I just—“

“I know, Scott.” Stiles chuckled. Everyone loved Melissa and Stiles wished his father wouldn’t be too busy to attend a McCall dinner. They have met a few times, but those were mostly fleeting moments, a greeting and never a proper conversation. Stiles had a feeling his father would like Melissa.

“But you’ll come to lacrosse, right?” Scott asked then. Stiles frowned as he was thinking about it. Then smiled.

“Oh, yes.”

\--

Scott stayed the whole night and Stiles could also get a few hours of sleep thanks to him. He always slept a little better if there was someone he trusted around. Scott left the mansion quickly in the early morning to school and Stiles wished desperately to go with him. It was rare when he really felt up for school and he figured it has to do something with the fact that now he can’t go, but it didn’t make it better.

His father was already on a plane going to New York and it meant he will have to stick with the new security alone for a few days. And the new teacher, if there will be any. Stiles wasn’t exactly in a hurry to ask about that one, he knew Lydia will take care of it anyway.

“Mm, speaking of the devil, I was just thinking about you.” Stiles started when he saw her walking to him. He was just having his breakfast, which was also a rare occasion. Lydia seemed pleased that he was eating. For one second.

“You wish it was the devil next time, he would be more pleased with you.” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “What the hell happened last night?”

“What?” Stiles frowned around a mouthful of cereal. He could list at least three damn things that happened last night and he decided to go with the most urging one. “Someone fucking broke into my room and threatened Scott and me.”

“I thought Scott was the one breaking into your room.” Lydia pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

“Scott is always invited, that guy wasn’t!” Stiles snapped. “Oh my god, don’t tell me he was a fucking—“ he started, realizing that maybe he let the man off the hook too easily. Just because he was wearing a nametag for Hale and Co. and sputtered some bullshit about protocol.

“He was most probably Peter Hale, one of Hale’s.” Lydia sighed, looking at the file in her hand. “But that doesn’t matter, the point is—“

“Peter Hale? Give me that!” Stiles gasped, reaching for the paper to read it. He quickly scanned the document. It was a weekly schedule for the guards and Stiles felt so incredibly stupid he didn’t think of this. He remembered receiving this file too, but never bothered to check. He was too occupied by his own sources… which were unavailable at the moment.

“Stiles, I’m trying to warn you before Hale does.” Lydia huffed with the overly familiar tone Stiles heard from her many times the past two years. It was early in the morning and she already had her Stiles-share for the day. “Scott was trespassing and the next time he will be shot, Stiles. For real.”

“Scott was always trespassing, ever since I knew him!”

“Did you forget what I told you last time?” Lydia asked in a loud voice, making Stiles finally look up from the paper.

“No, no I didn’t, it’s just…” he muttered.

“Stiles, there are no excuses. You follow the rules the Hales set or someone will get hurt.” Lydia said, taking back the file.

“That guy pointed a gun at my head!” Stiles tried. It made Lydia freeze for a moment. She was aware of Stiles’ history with guns and he could see that she was also shocked.

“Well, then you know this is serious.” she sighed. “Play nice, Stiles. I’ll also tell Hale and Co. to do the same.” she added quietly before walking away to address another matter in her current schedule.

Stiles left alone with his bowl of cereal he didn’t want anymore. So he just dumped it and decided to try and address the firewall issue today. The Hales already knew many things about him and he didn’t want them to keep that position too long.

As he was walking back to his room, he spotted Derek standing by the office of his father. Derek Hale, son of Talia Hale. Someone Stiles didn’t know much about yet. But he knew that he was the head of the agency and owner too, so if he had a complaint he was the one to be addressed. And he wasn’t waiting with that.

“Aren’t you supposed to be with my father?” Stiles asked, stopping in front of the wolf. He was taller, darker and seemed extremely annoyed the moment he spotted Stiles on the corridor. Good.

Derek didn’t answer at first, just eyed him. Again, with the professional coldness of a cyborg.

“I sent my best men with him, who are specialized on airport security and with crowds also.” Derek said at last.

“So it means your worst men are left here?” Stiles asked, crossing his arms and looking around. Derek only granted that question with a sigh. “I figured. Last night I met one of them, I think he was breaking at least ten rules.”

“If you’re talking about the incident with Scott McCall—“ Derek started and Stiles could almost see him grow in size too as his anger was closer to the surface.

“No, I’m talking about the incident with one of yours! He’s called Peter Hale, he was in my room last night, and he was pointing a gun at me! Me! Who he was supposed to protect.” Stiles interrupted, just to see Derek close his eyes for a second.

“Peter was acting as protocol. We have a shoot-first-ask-later policy.” Derek answered with a tight jaw Stiles didn’t miss.

“Jesus Christ, so you could have shot Scott? My best friend?!”

“No.”

“You just said-“

“Mr. Stilinski, I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t bother me in my work anymore.” Derek said and Stiles was sure he was growling. It was a growl. “I have to also warn you about accessing forbidden sites on your computer. Our responsible was doing his best to set up a safe firewall so no one uninvited would access your hidden folders.”

Stiles licked his lips, narrowing his eyes at the guard, wondering if he was bluffing.

“I have no hidden folders, if you were in my computer you’d know.” he said, snorting.

“I wouldn’t be too proud of the gigabytes of explicit adult videos either.” Derek deadpanned. “But I suppose we all have our preferences.” he finished, leaving Stiles speechless and just gaping. “Have a nice day, Mr. Stilinski.”

Derek said and nodded before he walked away. Stiles figured he had actually nowhere to go, but it was far cooler to just leave him gaping there.

God damn it, the Hales were all insane and they were all ahead of him…

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by Miisha~
> 
> Sorry this fic is all over the place.

 

 

 

Peter’s guns were more than clean. They looked like they were in mint condition. Yet, the best distraction was to take them apart and clean them again. There was something soothing about it ever since Peter started to work with guns. And judging by Derek’s steps nearing the door, he figured he will need a cool head.

“Peter, I need to talk to you…” Derek started, slamming the door open to enter the monitoring room. It was a room set up in the basement of the Stilinski mansion, a base for them in the house where they could reach all the cameras and microphones and have access to all the tapes. Though the servers weren’t in the house, it was not that safe.

Peter liked the place, especially during the night because no one would bother him while working. He insisted to work alone and it took months of sweet-talking Derek and some (lots of) favors to get this privilege. Though judging how angry his nephew appeared he may have lost some credit.

“You could have called during the day, I’m working now” Peter smirked, motioning over the monitors and the disassembled gun in front of him.

Derek just sent the gun a cold glare before turning back to his uncle.

“I tried to call you, but you were unavailable” he said. Peter frowned as if it really surprised him. It didn’t. He kept his days for himself. “Now I will talk to you.”

“Go on then” Peter smiled, leaning back in his chair, knowing how it wasn’t respectful of his Alpha at all. Derek just sucked it up and continued.

“What the hell was that yesterday?” he asked. Peter’s smirk widened. Oh yes, he knew about that…

“The incident with McCall?” Peter started.

“That and the fact that you were holding a gun against the Stilinski boy’s head!” Derek shouted. “It’s clearly against our rules, Peter! There are two people we must protect at all cost: one is Mr. Stilinski and one is his son!”

“Now, Derek, you knew I’m good with my guns. I only shoot if I want to” Peter started, holding up his hand.

“No, I actually don’t know” Derek hissed, fisting his hands. “Next time you pull something like this I’ll take you out, I’ll send you back where you come from. Do you understand?” he asked, leaning closer.

Peter recognized the growl and the heat in Derek’s eyes. So he just slowly nodded, not commenting further. It seemed to work and Derek left with a warning. The other wolf sighed, and turning his head toward the monitors, spotted Stiles in his room by his laptop.

Peter narrowed his eyes as he was thinking about the encounter - the look Stiles gave him while he was at gunpoint. He was afraid but ready to tear at his throat if he would hurt his friend. It made Peter smirk again.

\--

In their first weeks, Stiles has met more members of the agency. Derek and Peter were the only Hales he could spot so far. The other core members seemed to be Boyd, Lahey and Reyes. Though Stiles couldn’t find out the name of their technician yet. But there was one thing he knew: they all seemed to work on making Stiles’ life a living hell.

Stiles was basically trapped inside the house. Whenever he left, which basically meant he would just go around and have a walk in the garden, searching for the cameras that Scott could avoid, Lahey was already at his heels.

Just like now.

“Would you mind?!” Stiles hissed when he opened the front door, just to find Lahey already standing there. He was tall, very tall and yet again, someone who could be in Vogue magazine or on the catwalk. Those cheekbones could cut people if they weren’t careful enough and the blue eyes were unnerving. But Stiles figured Lahey wasn’t cut for modeling despite his appearance, because he couldn’t work the puppy look. No, that was far from a puppy look…

“Oh, no, I’m fine thanks” Lahey smirked with perfect teeth Stiles wanted to bash in. How come these people were so fucking perfect, they had no right to be. So Stiles shimmied through Lahey to get out but the guy wouldn’t budge. He just chuckled all so amused at Stiles’ attempt to intimidate him despite the power and height difference.

“Can’t I take a walk in my own garden alone?!” Stiles asked, not even stopping to look or listen to Lahey.

“Are you planning to do this every time?” the guy asked.

“Most probably” Stiles huffed. “Until I can take a fucking walk without any of you breathing down my neck.”

“Oh, don’t worry, we all know your preferences over who’d breath down your neck.”

“Oh my god, is this real?! Is this happening, I mean, don’t tell me man you never had a secret porn collection stuffed away somewhere!” Stiles gasped, turning on his heels to face Lahey again.

“I did, but then again, I wasn’t important enough that someone wanted in my folders.” Lahey shrugged with a boyish smirk, which made Stiles think that yes, werewolves may not age that fast, but this guy could still be the same age as him.

“Your father must have been proud of you.” Stiles bantered on, and he was shocked that Lahey didn’t retort. Instead, he just froze, looking at Stiles in a way that made him feel… guilty. Did he say something wrong? Well, Stiles was used to the fact that whenever he opened his mouth nothing good came out, but the way Lahey was eying him actually made him feel bad about it. He wanted to apologize, but for what exactly?

“Hey…” Stiles started, stepping closer, but before he knew it Lahey grabbed him. Stiles gasped angrily, almost starting on a rant on how bodyguards shouldn’t touch their subjects like this, but then heard the crash of glass, following the sound of fire flaring up. When Stiles realized it was a Molotov cocktail he turned his head to look at where it came from, but Lahey pushed him toward the house before he could see more.

“Incident in Sector A, front-“ Lahey hissed something into his cuffs, but Stiles was too busy to try to see how that incident exactly happened. He heard more glass shattering as Lahey dragged him through the garden to the back gate where a car was already waiting for them. Stiles heard Reyes’ voice as they got into the car, saying there were further bombs thrown into the garden and they saw people run away on the street. It seemed to be an attack.

“What happened?” Stiles asked as Lahey slammed the door in his face and got on the front seat next to the driver without answering. “Hey, hey, don’t go all jerk on me, tell me what happened!”

“I believe you’re aware of what happened, Mr. Stilinski” Lahey answered as the engine started up. “We’re under an attack.” He refused to give any further information to Stiles.

Stiles had no idea what was going on until later that day when he was tucked away in a hotel room in the other end of the city. Lahey refused to tell him anything or even talk to him, only half of which, Stiles figured, had to do with the attack. Even when he threatened to talk to Derek about his behavior, Lahey didn’t talk. He was waiting outside the room, probably; Stiles didn’t actually care, since he was forbidden from using the phone or any computer. They told him it was for his own safety until they find the perpetrators of the attack. And it was taking fucking _hours_. Stiles also figured he will have to spend the night… which he wasn’t happy about at all.

He was thinking about his father on the other end of the country, wondered when he can call him and if he had been informed about it at all and. Whether he was safe… But Stiles tried to think that Hale and Co. knows how to protect him there. They really seemed to work proactive and effective on their field jobs judging from his father’s opinion. But Stiles had no clue, he was trapped in a house - a cage with the mental division of Hale and Co.

Eying a suspicious stain on the ceiling as he was lying on his bed Stiles sighed. This supposed to be a five star hotel without any damn stains anywhere. He was almost thinking about calling the staff and complaining just so he would have something to do. Then the door opened.

“So you decided to talk to me?” Stiles started without even moving from the bed or looking at Lahey.

“Not really, the corridors are just dull and boring” a voice answered, which wasn’t Lahey’s. But Stiles knew that voice. Last time he heard it, it was talking about protocol and shooting Scott. Stiles quickly sat up on the bed to look at Peter, frowning heavily. The man locked the door and walked in, checking the small room. Lahey insisted on a small room for Stiles, probably because it was easier to guard, but Stiles thought it could be another way to mess with him. By the entrance door there was a small table with two chairs near to a minibar, a boiler, tea and instant coffee. The rest of the room was occupied by the giant bed, the TV and mirrors. The shades were closed, again Lahey’s idea. It was yet another cage. Peter didn’t seem impressed either.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles asked, scrambling to get out of the bed. Peter just chuckled at him.

“My job, apparently. I’m here to switch with Isaac” he said, walking to the minibar.

“Are you?” Stiles asked narrowing his eyes. “Weird, I thought you need to stick a gun down my throat for that. You don’t seem to do a very good job.”

“Now now, Mr. Stilinski, I can kill without using guns too. For example, you’d be surprised how effective bed sheets could be. Easy to work with, too.” Peter smirked at Stiles before he took out a bottle of wine.

“How could they hire you as a bodyguard?!” Stiles groaned, rubbing his forehead.

“Family business.” Peter shrugged, placing the bottle back to search for something else. Stiles didn’t even question him why he would do that. He figured bodyguards can’t drink on the job, but maybe werewolves were different? Or maybe Peter just didn’t give a shit about rules. And that gave Stiles an idea.

“Do you know what happened?” he asked suddenly. “Lahey won’t tell me, no one would tell me anything…”

At this question, Peter looked up at him and Stiles wanted to kick him again for that amused expression he was wearing.

“There was an incident and now we’re working it out while we put you in safety” Peter said, stopping the rummaging through the bottles in the fridge for a moment.

“Bullshit.” Stiles hissed, fisting his hands. “What the fuck happened?! You know damn well, everyone knows and they are not telling me!”

“Because they are still working on what to say to you.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“What…” Stiles blinked, freezing. “Wh… What?”

“Mr. Stilinski” Peter started with a patronizing smile. “The incident was just a few kids throwing Molotov cocktails into the garden of the mansion. They didn’t even mean it, someone paid them for it. And that someone didn’t want to hurt anyone they just wanted to make a statement or get some attention.”

Peter was talking as if the whole thing wasn’t a big deal and it really didn’t sound one. And yet, Stiles was still stuck in a hotel without his phone or laptop and with a bodyguard who was raiding the minibar.

“Why won’t Lahey tell me this…?” Stiles asked frowning, confused. Peter licked his lips, finding another bottle of wine.

“It’s an order to keep silent until Derek comes up with a public version, which Ms. Martin can work with” he said. Stiles gnawed at his lower lip, looking at Peter, but his thoughts were more occupied by what happened. All he saw was a small fire and Lahey’s back. He still felt the grip of the guy on his arm when he dragged him to the car from the garden.

“I’ll ask again: why wouldn’t anyone tell me the truth…” Stiles asked with less power this time, yet still insisting. Peter just sighed, tilting his head at him.

“They want you to be frightened” he said after a long pause. Stiles blinked at him. It sounded… weird. Almost scary even. Hale and Co. wants him in fear? Weren’t they there to make him feel safe? His questions may have been apparent on his face because Peter answered them. “Scared people are easier to control, and believe me Mr. Stilinski, you’re a wildcard in this situation and my nephew would love to have a grip on you.”

“That’s funny, because I’m not scared” Stiles scoffed. The man just chuckled, tapping his ear with one finger.

“Tell it to this heartbeat that’s making me more annoyed by the second” he remarked. Stiles didn’t answer, but he felt his cheeks flush. So Derek wanted him to be afraid, wanted him to be an obedient little boy and do as they say and that’s why they would keep information from him, even if it wasn’t that important. But the principle…

He looked around in the room, thinking about his situation. It was utter shit. His father was working hard to make the government and the people accept the right of the supernatural, to make them equal and in the meantime he had to face their threats outside the office. In his own home. And where was Stiles in all of this? Quivering in the mansion like a coward. Or in a hotel room as this. Without anyone to talk to or call, without the power to do anything because information was kept from him by his own security to control him - for his own father’s safety.

“Why did…” he started when he noticed Peter pouring white wine into two glasses from the bathroom. Stiles frowned. “I’m not 21 yet, I can’t drink.”

“And I’m Lady Gaga.” Peter snorted pushing one of the glasses toward Stiles on the table.

“Well, with enough amount of make-up…” Stiles started, but reached for the glass. A little alcohol wouldn’t hurt anyway. He didn’t even care that Peter also helped himself to it. “So… so uh, why did you tell me then? If there is a gag order, why…?” Stiles asked, swirling the golden liquid in his glass.

“Call it a favor.” Peter shrugged, taking a sip from his own glass. “I don’t believe you should be kept in the dark either. Ignorance isn’t a good weapon to have, despite the fact that I believe in controlling people with fear.”

“What will they tell my dad?” Stiles asked.

“Probably the truth” Peter answered. Stiles was thinking about it. He really hated this, but at least it was clear that this attack seemed nothing to do with a real threat. They had these kind of assaults in the past, when their window would be broken with a stone or a brick or some kind of grammatically incorrect message was left by their gates… it happened almost every day. This time it just had a bit more edge.

Stiles sighed, pulling out a chair to sit down by the table with shaking limbs. Yes, he was scared before, but now he felt relieved and exhausted. The wine may have also helped for him to calm down and he felt like he could even sleep now, which was rare.

“Can I ask you one more thing…?” Stiles started, looking at Peter again. The wolf took a sip from his glass raising an eyebrow at him.

“Does it matter what I say?” he asked and Stiles chose to ignore the annoyed tone.

“Who’s your technician, the one who put the firewall up…?” the teen asked. The question made Peter genuinely surprised.

“And why exactly? I thought you had enough videos and could manage without PornHub.”

“Oh my god, everyone knows about the porn in the damn agency already?” Stiles groaned, rubbing his cheek. He felt so annoyed and he will never forgive himself that he let his guards down. Now he has to listen to this every damn time. “No, asshole, I just… I want to talk to him.”

“He can’t be bribed.” Peter remarked with a smug smile as he dipped his free hand in his pocket to take his phone.

“I don’t care, I’ll try. I need my… I need to talk to him” Stiles hissed. “So can you help me or not?” he asked, but then a name and a phone number was presented to him. “Danny Mahealani?” he read the entry in Peter’s phone. The wolf just nodded.

“This is all I have, do what you want with it” he smirked. Stiles frowned and quickly took the offered pencil and scribbled it down on a piece of paper. He hated that in this day and age he had to use pencil and paper… if he could have his phone already…

“Is this another favor?” Stiles asked as he pocketed the note, though he kept Peter’s phone still in his hand. Before he was really thinking about it, he quickly opened the contacts of the wolf, just to find three entries in it: Danny’s, Derek’s and Boyd’s. “Wow, you’re not so popular are you?” Stiles snorted when Peter reached for the phone.

“Now, keep your nose where it belongs.” Peter chuckled, pocketing his phone. “I keep important numbers in my head, so no one unwanted could get them.”

“As if it’s true.” Stiles shook his head.

“I believe you also keep certain things only in your head, so no one could access them. Far more important things than some porn videos.” the wolf remarked and Stiles stayed silent. He was right. His mind was the most impenetrable storage… and yet Peter could still poke at it. “Now, Mr. Stilinski, I believe we just passed your bedtime.”

“Shut up.” Stiles retorted weakly, hating that Peter was right. He felt tired and sleepy and that uncomfortable bed he was lying in just a few minutes ago seemed much more inviting, despite that it was unfamiliar and Stiles already had trouble sleeping in his own bed back at the house. Here he had nothing, not even his pillow. He was alone. “Will you be here?” he asked quietly before he could stop himself. “I mean… like, your shift or how does it work…” he tried to save it, but he couldn’t.

“I’m here all night, Mr. Stilinski” Peter said and Stiles wished for just one second he would have called his name for some strange reason. Maybe he just wanted someone to get familiar with him, like with a child like his father would. And tell him it’s alright and everything will be fine.

So Stiles gulped down his wine and walked back to bed. He just kicked off his shoes he didn’t bother with taking off any of his clothes or with shower. The sheets smelled fresh and mint and cold and he hated them. He hated sleeping in a foreign bed all alone, he already felt his stomach flip. He reached for the light switch, hesitating for a moment whether he’d be able to sleep in darkness or not. He was thinking about Peter’s words, that scared people were easier to control. Right now he wasn’t sure why he was afraid, he just was. He was someone the Hales wanted. So with a sigh he gathered courage to switch off the lights. He expected complete darkness, but a small light in the dining area was still on. Peter seemed to make his base there with the wine bottle and Stiles didn’t mind it for some reason. Peter was the only thing that wasn’t a stranger in here, despite how he wasn’t an ally either: he was a guard dog. Stiles closed his eyes, concentrating on the small noises Peter would make; his glass clinking on the table, the soothing sound his suit made when he was moving, the way he sometimes cleared his throat…

Before Stiles knew it, he was asleep.

\--

The next day Stiles was allowed back in the mansion and he could finally call his father as well. Mr. Stilinski said that Hale told him about the incident, that some kids were messing around again and for their misfortune they happened to do it while Stiles was in the garden. They were just wanting to have some fun, whatever that meant by their vocabulary. Stiles already knew this won’t have much publicity, maybe some low level newspaper will write about it, but that will be all. If the people would get wind of it, they’d probably think it meant something more serious and get scared. Again, Stiles was reminded of Peter’s words…and how true they were.

It was Reyes who escorted Stiles back and maybe he was just imagining it, but she was sending death glares in his way. Great, one more person who hated him. Well, Stiles thought, the feeling was mutual.

Back in his room he didn’t hesitate to call the number he got from Peter. He needed to talk to Mahaelani about that damned firewall.

“Who’s this?” the voice on the other end of the line asked. Stiles blinked, being caught off guard.

“Uh… is this Danny Mahealani?” he asked.

“Who’s this? This number was supposed to be given to Peter Hale only and you are not him.” the voice insisted. Stiles licked his lips a little nervously.

“I’m Stiles Stilinski, I--” he muttered just to be interrupted by the guy again.

“Wait.” he said and Stiles waited. He felt like an idiot and the more he waited the more nervous he’s gotten.

“Listen dude, I just want to know if you’re the one I’m looking for, I got your number from Peter—“

“Oh you’re the Hales’ current client. Alright, I got your coordinates too. And by the way, great work on the firewall breaching it made me sweat a little.” Danny was grinning, Stiles could hear.

“Yes, yes that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about!” Stiles started, pacing around in his room. “I want-“

“Stop talking, the room’s most probably bugged too. Let’s meet somewhere outside the house, if you want to make an offer to me.” Danny interrupted again. Stiles froze in his tracks, looking around the room as if he could see microphones or cameras. Also, Danny sounded like he knew exactly what he wanted to ask him…

“Okay, alright… where- where do you want to meet?” Stiles asked licking his lips.

“I’ll come to you when I know it’s safe.” Danny answered in a dismissing tone, like he was about to hang up. Stiles almost panicked.

“What?! Wait, no no! Then what am I going to do until then?! I need my sources, I need research.” the teen gasped.

“Try Google, I heard it has all the info you need.” Danny snorted.

“No, no you don’t understand, I need info on people—“

“That’s even easier, maybe you should just, I don’t know, talk to them? See you soon, Stiles.”

“No, no no wait, wait!” Stiles tried, but the line was cut. In his fury he tried to call again, but Danny seemingly had enough of him, the line was dead, no matter how many times he called. “Fucking…!” Stiles hissed throwing his phone down the bed. He wasn’t anywhere near to his goal. All he could do is wait for this Danny guy to contact him again, if he ever will, or he could try to breach the firewall again. So this is what Peter meant with “can’t be bribed”… or something like that.

\--

“You don’t seem to look too good, is everything alright son?” Mr. Stilinski asked. He was finally back from one of his campaigns and they were having breakfast. Stiles dragged himself out of bed after two hours of sleep to meet him. He was poking at his scrambled eggs, not really feeling hungry.

“Nothing’s fine dad.” Stiles sighed. “I hate these people.” he groaned, rubbing his burning eyes.

“I sure hope you’re not talking about our new security.” his father remarked with a raised eyebrow. “I only heard good things about them from Ms. Martin. They also handled the Molotov incident quite spectacular and they were very effective during my trip.”

That last bit caught Stiles’ attention. He stopped playing with his food and looked up at his father.

“Did anything happen?” he asked quietly. His father just sighed, smiling a little.

“Nothing bad, just the usual. Mr. Boyd and his men handled everything that could have been worse, right on time.” he said. “If I have had any doubts whether I made the right choice, now I have none. Hale and Co. know their trade very well, Stiles.”

Stiles bit his lower lip, eying his father, noticing that he didn’t give him a straight answer. And Stiles wasn’t sure if he wanted to have it; if he wanted to know that his father had to be forced back into his car and drove away to a hotel room and kept away from phones and computers, if anyone tried to shoot him, stab him, or just thrown rocks at him.

“We are making progress.” Mr. Stilinski said after Stiles was silent for too long. “The people starting to realize the opportunities in having supernatural equality with the same rights as humans. The badge issue, Stiles, in a few months they could get rid of the badges.” he said with a small smile. “Scott wouldn’t have to worry anymore.”

“That would be amazing, dad.” Stiles smiled a little too. His parents’ ideals were really noble and it was the way to a better world and yet people were still afraid. “If you need any help…” Stiles looked up then, his throat going dry. He never really offered active involvement in this business ever since his mother died. His father noticed it also and his smile became a little forced.

“I don’t want you to do anything that would hurt you, you know that.” he said quietly.

“I know, thanks, it’s just… I feel like I’m not helping as much as I should.” Stiles sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“You can help by staying healthy. And work together with Derek Hale.” Stilinski warned. Stiles rolled his eyes. He didn’t exactly see how working with the security would make his father happy, but he didn’t want to start a fight. Not when he also had something risky to ask.

“I could work better with them if I could get out of the house sometimes.” he started.

“I’m sorry Stiles, but going back to school is out of the question at this point.” his father sighed, wiping his mouth.

“I know, but… You know I’m still in the lacrosse team.” Stiles said, watching his father’s reaction like a hawk. “I need to go to practice, otherwise they throw me out and Coach Finnstock has no energy to find someone instead of me now that I made the team.” He barely made the team. Stiles had no damn idea how, but apparently he did and it was the best excuse to get out of the house. His father also sensed that it was a really forced excuse.

“I’ll talk to Derek about it.” he decided then.

“No, dad! It’s you they should listen to. If you tell them I can go to practice they have to work with it. You just said that they were good on the field. This is lacrosse with the people I meet pretty often - this has no risk factor at all, it’s just a few hours. Come on, dad, please?” Stiles whined.

“Stiles, I’d love to say yes. If it was for me I’d let you go to school, hell I’d let you on that road trip with Scott you so want.” Stilinski sighed. “But I can’t. I can’t let you go, sorry. It’s for your own safety. Son, if something happened…” he quickly cut himself off there for the sake of them both. Mrs. Stilinski’s death was still making them shiver and Stiles was sure his father hit the bottle a lot because of it, but talking about it was way worse. “Just understand this, please.” his father said after a deep sigh, collecting himself.

“You can’t keep me locked up…” Stiles said instead of the right thing to say. His father didn’t grant him with a reply.

“I’ll talk to Derek, alright?” he cleared his throat, and Stiles already knew that Derek will never let him out of his sight this way. Whatever the reason.

After breakfast Mr. Stilinski had to go to his office preparing for the next part of their campaign. And Stiles was left with private lectures throughout the day. With him being the only student this was hell compared to school. He couldn’t sleep or let his mind wonder, he was forced to listen. After two hours of sleep, he wasn’t exactly ready for anything they’d put in his head.

His request to go to lacrosse practice was of course denied saying it was too risky. But Stiles decided it won’t stop him. He got dressed and had his equipment ready.

“Going somewhere?” Reyes appeared the moment Stiles left his room. The boy didn’t even slow down as he was hurrying through the hallway.

“Yeah.” he said.

“I haven’t received a noticed that you’re planning a trip this afternoon Mr. Stilinski.” Reyes retorted, keeping her pace with Stiles as he reached the front door.

“Strange, I remember submitting my school schedule to you, which also included the times of my lacrosse practice.” Stiles answered without missing a beat. “And I’m already late so if you’ll excuse me…” he reached for the door, but Reyes was faster stepping in his way. Her brown eyes pinned Stiles to his spot while she basically snarled at him not even messing up her lipstick.

“I believe you were not allowed to go to practice, Mr. Stilinski. Orders from Mr. Hale.”

“Well Mr. Hale can do me a favor.” Stiles hissed, trying to step around Reyes, but she didn’t let him. She blocked him again, placing her hand on his chest.

“Mr. Stilinski, there are two ways to do this. Don’t make me use the hard way.” she smirked, showing Stiles that she would indeed love to use the hard way. Stiles pressed his lips together, glaring at the girl in front of him. She barely looked older than him, but Stiles was sure that she could break all the bones in his body while wearing high heels and her make up would still be perfect.

“Fine.” Stiles hissed and got his bag, tossing it into Reyes’ arms. “Then you’ll bring my stuff back to my room.”

“I’m not your butler, boy!” Erica snorted, slamming the bag down the floor.

“No, you’re basically my dog.” Stiles said before he could stop himself. And yes, it had an effect he didn’t expect. Reyes stopped in her tracks, her eyes flaring up golden. Stiles would have found her beautiful if he wasn’t so scared suddenly. He could basically feel the killer intent from her.

“Now listen you—“ she hissed stalking toward Stiles. He stumbled backwards with a cry, shielding himself.

“Erica!” someone called before she could grab Stiles. She stopped immediately, which Stiles was very thankful of. He was also in awe, she had incredible control. It seemed like she was about to tear him apart, yet at her name she stopped. Derek walked up to them his jaw set tightly, emitting the same killer aura as Reyes. “Check if Sector F is alright, I’ll take it from here.” Derek spoke. She took a deep breath, not taking her eyes off Stiles. Then she looked at Derek once before she obliged and walked away.

Derek was waiting until she disappeared by the corner and then he turned to Stiles.

“Mr. Stilinksi, would you mind following me?” he asked with so tight lips Stiles almost commented how talented he is at ventriloquism.

“No, I’m- fucking hell!” Stiles started, but then Derek grabbed his arm and dragged him after himself. “Let me go, what the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“I’m making sure you’re not hurting yourself.” Derek hissed, dragging him through the house to the kitchen.

“It seems like you’re doing the exact opposite right now..!” Stiles yelled as the wolf opened the door of their pantry and shoved him inside. “What the hell?! What’s this, what are you doing?! Why are we here?!” he shouted, watching Derek close the door and lean against it.

“Are you done, can I speak?” the man asked, tilting his head. Stiles realized he was out of breath. He didn’t say anything and Derek take it as a cue. “I’d really appreciate you stop harassing my staff, Stiles.”

“Excuse you?! They are the ones making my life a living hell, you’re the one harassing me!” Stiles yelled.

“We are doing our job, we are protecting your father. And it means we have to keep an eye on you too.” Derek spoke and Stiles once again felt like Derek didn’t think he worth his time at all. “And I’m not going to let you hurt any of my colleagues again.”

“I’m 147 pounds of pale skin and bones, dude how could I hurt anyone?!” Stiles snorted, but Derek didn’t look amused.

“You have a big and careless mouth. So from here, I want to ask you to keep your distance, don’t speak to them unless it’s really necessary. They will also keep theirs but still do their job.” The wolf hissed, his eyes flashing red in the dim light of the small place. Stiles took in a sharp breath stumbling back into the shelves. “We really want your father to success in his campaign Stiles and I’m not going to let something like you ruin it for him or for us. Please keep that in mind, this cause is more important than you seem to realize.” Derek said. “Are we clear?” he asked, his eyes no longer glowing red.

Stiles licked his lips not answering to the question. There was only one answer to it anyway, and it wasn’t what Stiles would have responded. So he kept his mouth shut this time.

“I thought so.” Derek sighed, setting his jacket straight again. “Pick up your bag on your way back, we’re not servants. Nor fetch dogs.” he said and left. Stiles watched as the door of the pantry close all the way, leaving him in the darkness of food and kitchen supplies. He wasn’t scared, he realized. That heavy feeling in his stomach wasn’t fear, it was guilt and maybe a little loneliness. Everyone was working hard for his father’s cause, while he was here throwing tantrums like a little kid. Stiles didn’t feel like going to lacrosse anymore, or even leave the pantry. His knees slowly gave out and he decided a little rest in this dark place was fine. He didn’t want to show his face to the world for a while.

He took his phone and called Scott, telling him he can’t make it to practice again. Scott told him that coach will throw him out of the team at this rate and Stiles couldn’t care less. But he didn’t tell that to Scott, he wanted to end the conversation as soon as possible. He didn’t even want to talk to anyone…

And yet, when he hung up his phone rang again from a blocked number. Stiles usually wouldn’t have picked it up, he even remembered something Derek saying about not answering calls like this, but this time he couldn’t give a fuck.

“Yeah?” he started, leaning his head against a shelf.

“Stiles?” the voice asked, and it was a familiar voice. Stiles tried to remember where he had heard it…

“Danny?” he frowned, just to receive a laugh from the other side of the line.

“Yes, it’s me. Where are you?” the man asked, sounding too amused for Stiles’ current mood.

“Home.”

“Yes, but where? Bathroom?”

“No, I’m in the… in the pantry in the first floor kitchen.” Stiles groaned, rubbing his eyes. He wasn’t even sure he was having this conversation. Maybe his mind finally let him go and giving him all kind of insane and weird scenarios, including strange phone calls.

“Perfect. That room has no cameras or bugs, because really what would anybody do in a pantry?” Danny remarked and Stiles perked up. This room was basically a hiding place. That’s why Derek dragged him here, he didn’t want their conversation on record. He didn’t want the cameras to capture as he was pushing him around… Stiles looked around in the darkness with newfound strength.

It also meant that his conversation with Danny won’t go on record either.

“I figured I’ll call you now, since you were off the radar. But I can see you’re still in the house.”

“You can see…?”

“I tracked your phone, remember? Anyway, now is a good time to talk about that offer.” Danny was smirking, sounded like it.

“I want access to the deep web, Danny.” Stiles said.

“That’s clear.”

“Do you want money, or… what do you want?”

“What I want is an invitation.”

“Invitation to what…?” Stiles blinked.

“You’re the son of Mr. Stilinski, you get to be invited to many parties, including first screenings, game shows, you name it. I want to be your plus one to all of these.” Danny said and Stiles felt speechless for a moment. Yes, he always received these invitations, but he never went. He didn’t like crowds, he had this anxiety going on there even if his therapist said that he should go at least to movie premieres. But Stiles always felt itchy over watching the red carpet. He wished Danny would have asked money from him, it would have been easier.

“Alright…” Stiles licked his lips, closing his eyes for a moment. “So uh, how we’ll do this… I mean, you’re gonna tell me which events you want to go?”

“Yes, I’ll tell you everything in advance, you’ll see.” Danny said. “I’ll work on some special settings for you now, in two or three hours you’ll be able to access your filth” he added.

“You’re gonna monitor everything I do there, aren’t you?”

“Naturally. It’s actually my job. But I won’ report it. That’s our deal, Stiles.” Danny chuckled. “You sound tired, maybe you should catch some sleep until then.”

“Yeah, thanks for the advice, dad.” Stiles sighed, even if he wasn’t actually tired, he was… he wasn’t sure. All he knew that he needed a few more minutes. Danny hung up without saying bye and Stiles didn’t mind. He wasn’t cut fort courtesies right now. He wasn’t cut for anything, apparently.

After what seemed like an hour, or two, or a lifetime, Stiles decided it was time to get going. He picked himself up from the floor and pushed open the pantry door. It was already dark outside and he wondered just how long he’d been there.

“Good, I was starting to wonder if you’ll find your new home there.”

Stiles sighed, knowing that voice all too well already. He cast a glance at Peter sitting by the kitchen island.

“It’s still a warmer home than out here.” Stiles remarked in a hoarse voice. His throat was dry. He was eying Peter, thinking about Derek’s words. About his attitude, about his big mouth, and apparently how he kind of offended all the guards. He wondered if it was the same with Peter too, if he said anything to him that he shouldn’t have. Peter didn’t seem like he cared for anything actually.

“Derek… he, he had red eyes for a moment there.” Stiles started suddenly. “Is that some werewolf mojo, what does it mean?” he asked.

Peter’s smile became a bit forced, it didn’t reach his eyes anymore.

“It means that he is the Alpha of the pack.” Peter answered. “And that he wants you to oblige to his will. He must be really desperate if he was threatening a human like this.” he added chuckling, turning his head away. And Stiles wondered if it was meant for him or someone else.

“What pack?” Stiles asked.

“The Hale pack.” Peter shrugged.

“I’m not a Hale.”

“Nor is Erica, Isaac or Vernon, for that matter. The Hales are endangered species at this moment” the wolf straightened his back. His words having an edge Stiles couldn’t exactly determine. “But it’s still a pack and this pack has two more members to protect.” he said raising an eyebrow at Stiles.

The boy just sighed, rubbing his cheek. He realized that he had no damn idea about werewolves. But decided to do something about that soon. He will know more about the Hales and werewolves than anyone else in this damn city.

“What?” he barked when he realized Peter was looking at him with an amused expression. The wolf chuckled softly, as if he was thinking he should answer or not. In the end, he did.

“It’s a good look on you.” he said quietly. It made Stiles shiver. He had no idea what Peter was talking about, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. It was strange. This man, this wolf… he was strange.

Without any witty remark Stiles just left him there. He tried to tell Peter it wasn’t and escape, but it was. He basically ran back to his room throwing himself to his desk. Danny said it’ll be two or three hours until he can access the web and Stiles decided he will try now. And he wasn’t disappointed.

\--

Some people needed make-up to greet others with confidence, others needed music, designer clothes, drugs, alcohol… everyone had their own clutch to grab when they had to face the world and the people within. This support for Stiles was knowledge. He liked to go on with the knowledge in his head about basically everything. It became a habit when his mother would’ve asked him to help remembering names for when she had to meet a lot of people. She also liked to note a few smaller things about them just to show she cared. And she actually did, but with so many people to look out for, it was difficult. But Stiles was there to help her. They were small things like the names of their grandchildren, or pets, or what gifts they have gotten last year, or where they went for a vacation that year. And Stiles became obsessed. After his mother’s death, he wanted to know more and more until he was bored of the information he has collected.

That’s why he relied so much on his sources on the web. For a fair amount of money and other information, he could basically get every detail about a person…

Stiles found out about the Hales eventually. Why he hadn’t heard of them before is because the whole family was basically assassinated in a fire eight years ago. Everyone died, except Derek, his sister Laura and Peter. It was also known who did it: the Argents, hunters. Now, Stiles knew enough lingo to know that “hunter” didn’t exactly meant they were out for deer or bear. No, they were out for people - hunters were collectors. They weren’t supposed to kill. And yet Kate Argent put everything on the line because of her hatred for the supernatural. Stiles frowned as he read her file.

Kate Argent was exactly the type of person his father and mother was fighting against: loud and ignorant with hatred against every creature that wasn’t human. She was the one responsible for the Hale fire and the death of the family. Before Stiles knew it he was scanning where she was last seen just to find that she was already dead. She died of a fatal wound, which was caused by claws of a werewolf when it tore her throat out. They stated it was a hunting accident. Right.

When dawn has come Stiles knew all of the Hale fire he was comfortable with. It made him realize why Derek was so dedicated to his task - his family died because of ignorance. No wonder he wanted to protect Stiles’ father with all he could, Stiles thought. His cause meant much more to Derek, because his whole family died because humans were afraid of supernatural creatures… They needed equality.

After Stiles was finally armed with relevant information he had more courage to face these people. It was his support in this life.

\--

Even though, facing may have been the wrong word, because the next thing Stiles did with the relevant information was to run. Run fast and effective.

He knew now why werewolves were not exactly oversharing about their species. They had a lot of things to be afraid of. Due to their perfect vision sudden bursts of lights could blind them for a few second and also mountain ash was a damn treasure to be around. Stiles thought it worth all the money and trouble to smuggle a few bottles of mountain ash into the house when he saw Boyd act like he was hitting a solid wall as he was chasing him.

Stiles ran and ran, until he found a taxi which could take him to the school. To lacrosse practice, as he should have gone weeks ago. He kept looking out of the window expecting a black car chasing them, but nothing like that happened. There were no cars, no people in black suits, hell, even when he arrived to the school no one was waiting for him to bring him back. Stiles let out a short, victorious laugh as the taxi left and he wasn’t dragged anywhere. He was standing by the entrance of the school with his lacrosse equipment, and he was about to meet Scott, get yelled at by his coach and he couldn’t have been happier.

Stiles ran all the way to the locker rooms just to find everyone already in gear. He was late, yes, but he was there. Coach was indeed shouting at him for missing practice and Stiles was grinning at him all the way, making him even more pissed. And he didn’t care. It was a relief being amongst these people who would rather beat him to pulp on the field. It was good to see Scott again outside of the house. It was all good and something Stiles realized, he missed greatly.

“Get changed and meet in the field in five, Stilinski! Come on, don’t let me question my sanity for still letting you play with the big boys after all what you pulled!” Coach screamed while the others were already hurrying outside.

“Hurry up!” Scott grinned patting Stiles shoulder as he passed him.

“Yeah, just a sec!” Stiles grinned more and quickly got to his locker. He shrugged off his bag and he was about to take off his shirt when something slammed to him from behind. Stiles hissed in pain as he met head on with the locker. “What the fuck—“ he gasped, trying to look over his shoulder to see who hit him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was under the impression I have to disarm a dangerous kidnapper.” Peter said dryly, standing behind him. Stiles whirled around, taking in a sharp breath.

“What are you doing here!?”

“You always ask that, boy. Do I really need to explain it to you after all this time?” Peter asked reaching for him. Stiles tried to bat his hand and move away, but Peter just grabbed his wrist then. “My job.”

“Let me go, I’m here for practice!” Stiles shouted, tugging at his arm from Peter’s iron grip. He couldn’t believe it. He thought he was free for at least an hour and here he was with a wolf breathing down on his neck again.

“Oh no, you’re not. Are you here to tell us how smart you are, on how you can just flash a few lights and seal a few doors with mountain ash and we’re all quivering in fear? No no, Mr. Stilinski, I’m not going to give you that satisfaction. Not yet.” Peter smirked and Stiles felt his heart stop for a moment there. He was afraid. Not like during Derek’s pep talk, no, this was different. Stiles was afraid for his life here.

“Let me go.” Stiles hissed back, yanking at his hand, just to be thrown to the lockers again, his head banging against the metal. Peter was strong of course, he was a werewolf. “Fuck you!”

“Again, you seem to misinterpret my job description here.” Peter smirked. “Calm down Mr. Stilinski and come with me. We’re going home.”

“I’m not going back, I’m going to go to practice and you can’t stop me. This is basically a kidnapping here! Help! Help, somebody!” Stiles screamed, trying to get someone to hear, but who ever could outshout Coach? Especially when Peter pressed his palm on his mouth, bashing his head against the lockers the third time. Stile froze as Peter came right into his face. As he was talking, his voice was low and growling.

“Do you really want to do this?” Peter asked, his eyes pinned down Stiles more than his hands. “Like this, Stiles? It’s so amateur, so weak.” the wolf chuckled softly yet Stiles shivered from fear. Peter wasn’t like Derek, he didn’t flash his eyes at him and he didn’t tell him this is for a higher cause. He just… he just told him that he was weak?

“Mmph…?” Stiles tried to ask, frowning at the wolf.

“You can do better next time. Now, stop struggling, it will be better for both of us.” Peter said releasing the hand from his mouth and Stiles finally realized what made him scared. He recognized the voice from way before. He knew this touch from a night long, long ago. A drunken night on his mother’s funeral. He met this handsome bastard before. And he almost sucked his…

“It’s you… it was you…” Stiles whispered, staring at Peter. The wolf frowned in confusion though said nothing.

“Mr. Stilinski.” Peter started, tilting his head to the side. “Come with me now.”

“No, first tell me, tell me if it was you…?!” Stiles tried, but Peter just rolled his eyes and dragged him away. “Wait, wait, let me tell Coach I can’t come to practice.”

“If you think that going out there amongst your friends would benefit your situation in any way then you’re mistaken. I have orders to retrieve you by all means and eliminate whatever danger may occur.” Peter answered without missing a beat also not letting Stiles go.

“They are my team, what are you going to do, shoot them!?” Stiles hissed.

“Most probably.”

“Oh my god, man, you’re insane! Are you sure you’re not the one misinterpreting your job here?! You seem to be more like a hitman.” he shouted, thrashing around. “Let me go, I can walk on my own!”

“Mr. Stilinski, I will have to ask you to stop shouting otherwise I’ll have to retrieve you without your consciousness.” Peter started, still too calmly for Stiles’ taste. The wolf didn’t stop, he dragged Stiles all the way back to the car.

“You’re not a cop, you can’t tell me to stay silent!” Stiles screamed when Peter stopped abruptly and looked at him again.

“But I can make you” he said. Stiles swallowed, wetting his aching throat. Suddenly he was aware of Peter’s presence next to him, so close to him. He was huge, despite only being just a bit taller than him. But his shoulders were strong, his chest was too close to Stiles’. The boy shivered, yanking at his arm again with less force than before. He couldn’t look away from Peter. Now he was sure that Peter was the one from three years ago in that club, who whispered those words into his ear that Stiles remembered too clearly. Though, not so clearly about the rest of that encounter. It always felt like a dream, as if it wasn’t even real. More like a nightmare. And now this nightmare is standing in front of him.

“You wouldn’t hurt me.” Stiles tried again.

“You’d like to bet on that?” Peter scoffed and the boy froze. No, he wouldn’t. He was sure that Peter could kill him here and now and it would still look like a freaking accident. “See, Mr. Stilinski, it was better if you’d just come with me.”

“Yeah… yeah okay…” the boy nodded, letting out a sigh. And when he felt Peter’s fingers loosening on his arm, he pulled it and bolted.

Stiles later figured that Peter indeed hurt him and knocked him out because the next thing he knew was that his head hurt like there was no tomorrow and someone was yelling something. Stiles groaned as he moved his head and just check where he was. He was in the passenger seat of the black car that Peter probably drove to school. And the shouting was coming from the sidewalk by the gate of the mansion.

“You knocked him out?!” it was Derek’s voice. But this time he wasn’t shouting at Stiles.

“He was resisting…” so Derek was arguing with Peter. Probably. Stiles slowly opened his eyes to look at the two men standing by the car.

“You’re supposed to protect him and bring him back without a scratch” Derek hissed, motioning over the car. He wasn’t looking amused at all. Good. At least Peter will get part of the screaming too.

“My orders were to return him until your puppies figure out how to get rid of the mountain ash.” Peter retorted. “I did that. He’s fine, he’s here and now he’s yours.”

“You keep twisting my words and commands, Peter and I--” Derek started, stepping closer, but the wolf moved back.

“Oh look, he’s awake” he said, turning his head to the car. Stiles licked his lips, eying them. His head and throat hurt and he wasn’t exactly up for the next few hours that was coming. But ever so slowly he opened the door and got out of the car before any of the wolves would decide he needed help with that.

“Are you alright, Mr. Stilinski?” Derek asked in a dry tone. Stiles sighed, rubbing his temple.

“Peachy” he muttered in a hoarse voice.

“See, he knows his name and he can still talk. I believe he’s more than fine.” Peter helped and both Stiles and Derek sent him a pointed look.

“I hope you learned something from this incident, Mr. Stilinski.” Derek started and Stiles groaned. He had no energy to argue. “Your father is waiting, come with me” the guard motioned toward the gate. “Report to Boyd and get to your position” he told Peter as they walked away.

Stiles could basically hear Peter rolling his eyes at the order. But figured he would oblige. Just like Stiles. He followed Derek without a word, walking through doors he sealed with mountain ash and he found the high voltage lamps he used to blind Lahey and Reyes during his escape. They were broken. Figures. Stiles walked behind Derek like he was going to prison and he felt exactly like that.

Derek knocked on the door to Mr. Stilinski’s office and opened it to usher Stiles in. He walked in behind the boy. Stiles sighed and finally looked up from the floor just to find his father and Lydia standing by the desk. And yes, they were both looking pretty disappointed.

“Before any of you start… I was hit by one of the guards who were supposed to protect me.”

“It was for your own protection.” Derek answered quickly.

“What?! I heard you telling Peter that—“ Stiles frowned, raising his gaze at Derek.

“I believe your father has something to say too, Mr. Stilinski” the guard interrupted.

“Indeed, Stiles, I have many things to say.” Stilinski started.

“Dad…”

“No, son listen to me. Just this once, really listen to me. It baffles me greatly how you can still act like this after I told you our position.” Mr. Stilinski started, stepping to Stiles. “I know it wasn’t exactly the lacrosse practice you wanted to go. This is about something else, and I know, that it’s difficult for you. But try to understand me, try to understand us. I want you safe, I don’t want to constantly be afraid that something happens to you before I can make changes…”

“Dad, it was just- It was just lacrosse, they were only my teammates and Scott, I wasn’t in danger.” Stiles pleaded weakly, not really daring to look his father in the eye anymore.

“Your mother thought the same when she got out of the car.” Mr. Stilinski remarked quietly and it hit Stiles hard. “Thank you, Derek, for today. Please let your men have a breather before going back to work, they deserve it.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stilinski” the guard nodded and turned to leave. Then Stiles’ father turned to Lydia.

“Ms. Martin, I’d like nothing of this incident to get to the press. Can I trust you with that?”

“It’s already taken care of, Mr. Stilinski” she nodded with a tight smile, which showed she was proud of her work, but wasn’t amused with Stiles.

“Thank you, you’re also dismissed for the day.” Mr. Stilinski smiled.

None of them spoke when Lydia left the office. Stiles had no words, he felt like everything he had been holding inside was banging against his head and chest. He wanted to throw up, to cry, to run …

“I just want you to understand” his father finally said and Stiles took in a sharp breath.

“I understand!” he shouted. “I understand it is important, alright?! Everyone keeps telling me this, like I wouldn’t know, like I wouldn’t _care_!” he heaved. “I care, dad, I care, you know?! I care very much, but sorry that I can’t do shit about it, because you decided to keep me captive here!”

“You can help by following the rules and orders. For your own safety.” Mr. Stilinski sighed and Stiles saw that look again. The look showing his father thought that he was lying, that he didn’t really care, or he had no idea what they were fighting for. But Stiles had and he cared. He cared too much and too intense and that’s why he was useless.

“Mom wouldn’t let you do this alone” Stiles said then, watching his father’s face fall.

“She wouldn’t” he agreed quietly. “Good night, Stiles” he dismissed him. Stiles didn’t want to leave, yet he couldn’t stay in this office without flowers anymore either. He couldn’t look at his mourning father, he couldn’t listen to another lecture from people who wouldn’t listen to him. He was at the end of his rope.

That night Stiles couldn’t sleep. Which was a familiar experience, but this night was also one of his restless nights. He couldn’t concentrate anymore, everything bored him, but his hands were shaking from restless energy. His mind was buzzing again, as if the whole universe was trying to talk to him at once and he couldn’t filter out the voices.

Whiskey just made it worse, because it made the violent and dark thoughts louder and Stiles couldn’t find his Xanax. He had a suspicion that Derek took them, or even Lydia. Whatever. He had no pills to go with the alcohol that night. He had nothing. But he wanted something - wanted distraction, anything that would make this buzzing go away; that would let him sleep, to sink into oblivion and never wake up.

Stiles stumbled out of his room, wondering just how much he had drank. It didn’t seem too much, but it felt like a good amount, that made it impossible to walk straight. He leaned heavily on the wall as he made his way to the kitchen. Maybe he didn’t drink, maybe he imagined all of it. Maybe this is a dream too, he wondered. These were dangerous thoughts, he knew. But it didn’t stop Stiles to try and test his theory whether this is a dream or not.

He groaned when the kitchen counter jabbed into his hips as he slammed against it. He placed both his hands on the counter to try to steady himself. His breath was ragged and came in short spasms. Maybe he was having a panic attack, or just having a panic attack in his dream. Everything was possible. He pulled out a drawer and found what he was looking for: the knives. Just a small cut, just to check if it hurts, if it bleeds, if it’s real. He did this once before, it was nothing. He wasn’t even afraid. He grasped the first knife and pulled out, but then somebody grabbed his hand.

“That’s enough, Mr. Stilinski” Peter whispered so close to his ear Stiles could feel his warm breath. The man was standing behind him holding his hand away with the knife. His body was hot against his back, Stiles noted. He watched as the guard slowly takes the knife out of his hand placing it down on the counter. Stiles didn’t look at him, just watched the knife stiffly. Was this real? He felt a touch at the base of his neck. It felt real.

Stiles slowly turned toward Peter, raising his gaze at him. He realized that his head wasn’t buzzing anymore. What he felt was exhaustion and maybe a bit of relief.

“Is this real?” Stiles heard himself whisper. The guard slowly nodded and Stiles believed him. Because of the weight of the man’s hand on his shoulder. It was heavy, warm and real.

And if this was real Peter was about to drag him back to his room, to his ‘position’, where he should be during the night. Derek told him many times not to wonder during night hours, he already heard him this morning.

“I don’ want to go back” Stiles heard himself breath out and felt Peter’s hand slide up to his nape, fingers playing with his baby hairs. It made him shiver and wanted to lean into the warmth and just lay there for a while. Just absorb it and calm down.

“Then what do you want to do? What do you want?” Peter asked and Stiles had another familiar feeling that he heard that exact question in that exact voice. He was sure that it was Peter back then. It must have been him. And Stiles still had no proper answer.

“You tell me…” he muttered. “Just like last time, tell me…” he tried, seeking any kind of reaction from the man. But Peter didn’t seem to react, he didn’t seem like he remembered or even care.

“I think you already know, Mr. Stilinski” the wolf answered quietly.

“Can you call me Stiles?” he asked, closing his eyes. He felt his heart and head rush at the question. It felt so weak and lonely. It just made it worse.

“Certainly” Peter smiled and Stiles felt himself smile too, though his eyes were still closed. Yes, this was real and he was finally starting to calm down a little, sobering up.

“I don’t want to be weak anymore” Stiles whispered, opening his eyes. “I want to be capable” he added, his eyes dropping from Peter’s face to his neck, then lower on his tie and on the pin on his jacket. The pin that showed he was a werewolf. Before Stiles could stop himself he reached up and brushed his fingers over the small, blue pin. “I want to help.” Peter chuckled softly, Stiles felt his breath on his cheeks and looked up.

“See, you already know” the wolf remarked with a smirk. Stiles laughed a little, low and soft, looking down. Peter’s hand stroked his nape and slowly slid down to his back warm and safe. The same hand that pulled a gun on him and Scott, the same hand that knocked him out just this afternoon. How come it was able to feel this warm and safe too, Stiles wondered.

Peter slowly nudged him to walk while keeping the hand on his back to steady him. He led Stiles back to his room and which he didn’t mind anymore. This was real and he knew what to do, what he was supposed to do. Peter opened the door of his room and dropped his hand from Stiles’ back. The boy stopped, turning to the guard again.

“Will you stay?” he asked quietly.

“I’ll be here all night, Stiles” Peter answered, making Stiles’ heart skip a beat. He smiled again, reaching out for the wolf for some reason, but stopped himself before he could touch Peter.

“Alright…” Stiles whispered with a tight throat and stepped into his room. Peter closed the door behind him. The room hasn’t changed. It was still dark only the computer screens illuminating it with long, dark shadows. Yet, Stiles didn’t feel restless anymore, but determined. Before he knew it he was in bed, sleeping away the remaining hours of the night trying to listen if he can hear Peter outside his door.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by Miisha~

 

 

Stiles bit his lip as the scenery was running by outside the window of the limousine. He felt tense, his throat was dry and his stomach was in all sorts of knots as he’d swallowed a rock. His knee was bouncing at a rapid pace. It was a hard choice to make to follow this through, even if Stiles wasn’t sure it was a choice anymore.

Lahey and Reyes were sitting across from him in the car, laughing at something again. Stiles didn’t keep track of their conversation. He had different things in mind, for example how he will get out of the car without falling flat on his face. This was the first time he was sitting in a limousine after his mother’s death which was exactly the reason he wasn’t going on these events anymore. He hated the drive, he hated getting out of the car and waiting for a gunshot. He hated the people who cared nothing about him, while they pretended they do. Stiles hated the meaningless chat, he didn’t think that any of these parties ever had any significance for their cause other than just showing their faces and proving they are still alive. But his father and mother attended them regularly, while she was still alive.

Though, he made a choice to go to this garden party. It was after a talk with his father, who said that they can talk about Stiles’ lacrosse practice if he would attend a few other occasions too. Stiles saw it as a fair trade. So after the first time in three years, he sat in a limousine again and drove to the garden party of Mr. Harris or Dr. Harris, Stiles didn’t even care. All he knew that the guy was high up in the Department of Education and desperately wanted to be superintendent. Although Stiles didn’t actually care, it was alarming that a person who had history with chemical explosives in the past now wants to have more power over the Californian public school system. This was also the reason this party was thrown, Stiles figured. He couldn’t believe he was going, but it wasn’t all about Harris. It was about showing his face on a public even that he was invited to. And getting cookie points with his father to let him go to practice.

Then the car stopped and Stiles wanted to take everything back. He wanted to go back home to his room and stare at his screen. Maybe eating some ice cream, oh he was so up for ice cream now…

He trembled when Lahey and Reyes got out of the car before him and moved to open the door on his side. Stiles barely could get his seatbelt open, his fingers were shaking so bad. And when he was free, he didn’t get out of the car just yet. He looked up at Lahey, just to see the wolf annoyed and ready to just move on.

“Mr. Stilinski?” Lahey asked when Stiles took too long to move. He exchanged a look with Reyes who was standing a bit ahead, closer to the entrance.

Stiles didn’t say anything just moved his leg to get out of the car. He was slow and shaky and he felt like all life was leaving his body. Lahey was raising an eyebrow at him and he was about to ask something again, but Stiles forced his feet to walk. Step by step, he approached the entrance and the hostess who welcomed him. She was a very decorative young woman, but Stiles couldn’t care less, he wanted to get to the champagne as soon as possible.

“Mr. Stilinski, good afternoon.” she smiled at him with her overly white teeth as well as overly red lipstick for this occasion. Stiles felt cold sweat on the back of his neck and all he could do was nod. “Please go…” she continued, motioning over to the entrance. Though as Reyes proceeded ahead of Stiles she called after her. “I’m sorry, miss? May I see your nametag?”

Reyes tried to hide her annoyance once again but obliged.

“We’re here with Mr. Stilinski, it has also been reported.” she explained as their hostess quickly checked their nametags on the list she had.

“Well, yes, yes that’s right… But…” she frowned, looking up at the three of them as Lahey was coming up to see what the holdup was.

The alarm in their hostes’ eyes made Stiles focus like a hawk on its prey and he welcomed the distraction.

“Is there a problem?” Stiles asked, tilting his head to the side, his eyes never leaving the woman’s face. She pressed her lips tightly together.

“It wasn’t reported that your security includes… supernatural creatures, Mr. Stilinski. Unfortunately, I can’t let them in.” she said, looking over the two men standing on the side.

“Wha--- I mean, excuse me? They are werewolves, they are wearing the badge, there--- They are my security.” Stiles frowned at her, feeling Lahey and Reyes tense up from both of his sides.

“We can provide you with our own security Mr. Stilinski,” she said, holding her list tighter in her hands, “but your men will have to wait outside until—“

“What, no, I’m not going to leave them out here.” Stiles frowned. “They are my security, and I trust them more than any men you can provide.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stilinski, but these are the rules Mr. Harris has approved of and I…”

“You know what, fine.” Stiles stomped and turned to Lahey, seeing something like fear in the wolf’s eyes.

“Mr. Stilinski…” he started in a hoarse voice, but Stiles interrupted him.

“Get that car back, we’re going home. If you can’t come in, I’m not going to attend.” he said and searched around for his phone. “And I want Harris to know I was here, and the cause why I couldn’t attend.” he turned back to the hostess as Reyes was calling the car back. She just nodded, but Stiles didn’t trust her.

As they were waiting for the car, Stiles found his phone and dialed Lydia’s number.

“Stiles, I don’t have time right now!” Lydia picked up, knowing Stiles too much already. In any other case he would have laughed, but this was serious.

“They won’t let in supernatural creatures to Harris’ Garden Gnome Collection Party.” Stiles started before Lydia could go on.

“You mean Adrian Harris’ Garden Party?”

“Or you can call it Adrian Harris’ Garden Party for Stuck Up Humans Only. They won’t let me in with Lahey and Reyes. I’m coming back.” Stiles said it out loud enough for the new arriving guest to hear. “And I want this to be communicated and written down, tweeted, linked, whatever.”

“Roger that, Stiles. Tell me all the details when you get back and we’ll tear this man down.” Lydia smiled. “Good job.” she said before she hung up. Stiles frowned a little confused. He got back into the car when Lahey ushered him inside, still typing away at his phone to Lydia.

“You didn’t have to do that.” he heard Reyes’ voice after they were already on the road for a few minutes.

“Yeah, you could have gone with their men. They were humans after all, not dogs like us.” Lahey started and Stiles looked up at them.

“Why would I want to be at a party which wouldn’t welcome werewolves?” he snorted.

“Because you hate werewolves.” Lahey said with a shrug and Reyes hit him in the arm. Though it got Stiles’ attention. He frowned at the two guards in the car for a while, trying to put two and two together.

“You think… I hate werewolves?” he asked carefully. Not threatening, but curious. “Why?”

“You don’t?” Lahey asked, narrowing his eyes. Reyes also looked a bit confused. “I mean…” he swallowed looking at Erica for support, but she just raised an eyebrow. “We always saw your father during these campaigns, he was always very loud about the… about our rights and all. About equality, but we thought…”

“We thought you don’t give a shit. And when we started working for him, you were being a jerk with us.” Erika summed up, spreading her arms.

Stiles licked his lips, eying the two wolves sitting across from him.

“So this is why…” he started. “So this is why you were also jerks with me! You thought I hate you...” he frowned.

“Naturally. We didn’t exactly want to work with you, but Mr. Stilinski was very intent on keeping you safe.” Lahey sighed.

“Oh my god.” Stiles groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Just to set things straight… I don’t hate you because you’re werewolves. I hate you because you… Because I don’t like being watched all the freaking time and handled like I wasn’t capable enough! Would you like to live in your house and be under constant supervision!? And then being told that you suck?” he asked.

Isaac smiled, looking away for a second.

“You’re right. I hated it.” he said quietly. Erica just patted his shoulder, while Stiles frowned a bit unsure.

“You know, I think we weren’t exactly introduced properly.” Stiles started then and held his hand out for Erica. “I’m Stiles Stilinski, you can call me Stiles, or whatever.”

“I’m gonna call you loser.” Erica smirked, shaking his hand. “Erica Reyes, but you can call me Queen.”

“Nice to meet you, Your Majesty.” Stiles grinned and turned to Isaac.

“I’ll go with Stiles, if it’s alright.” Isaac said, shaking his hand too.

“Wow, that’s my name too.” Stiles gasped, making Isaac laugh.

Letting go of Isaac’s hand, Stiles felt like he just grasped something. And he didn’t need the deep web for it, nor anything like that. They just had to talk. Finally a lot of things started to make sense.

“So, I was really expecting some ice cream and stuff on this party, but I guess we have to take desperate measures now.” Stiles sighed, leaning back in his seat. “I know a place with amazing ice cream, can we go there? I mean if it’s not a security breach or something.”

“Oh, ice cream is really dangerous.” Isaac started.

“I must agree.” Erica nodded. “You will need extra security there and I believe we have to have samples too.”

Stiles grinned wider and nodded.

“I think we can work something out.” he said before he gave the address to the driver.

During their ice cream date, Stiles got to know that Isaac and Erica weren’t born werewolves, but they chose to take the bite and become one. Though they didn’t exactly tell the reason for that. They just agreed they had reasons, and maybe they will tell Stiles at another ice cream date.

They arrived back to the mansion where Lydia and Derek were already waiting for them, both wanting to know the details of what happened at the party. Stiles told them, along with Isaac and Erica trying to report properly, but Stiles interrupting them with basically useless information, just to see Derek flinch. But he also gave the full story to Lydia, who wrote down the details which is going to hit the papers and sites in a few hours.

Rights for the supernatural were a double- edged sword after all. Mr. Stilinski was in an important position and all the country knew well his attempts to bring more awareness to the maltreatment supernatural creatures are getting. People could feel it was the right thing to treat these creatures equally, but human fear was also a huge obstacle that had to be defeated. This campaign could go two ways… And maybe calling Harris out for it wasn’t the best idea, but Lydia said Harris is just powerful but not popular, so maybe they can use this to boost the importance of their cause.

Stiles couldn’t say, but he was glad that they turned him away from that party. Because Hale and Co. was growing to be more important to him than he first thought and he didn’t want to have to do anything with people would turn them away without even greeting them.

\--

“Wow, this is new.” Stiles frowned when it was Derek who was waiting for him by the car to bring him to practice. “I thought you are against me going to lacrosse.” he said. Of course it was already approved that he could finally attend practice, partly thanks to his little scene at Harris’ party, but Stiles never thought it will be Derek himself taking him there.

“I’m still against it.” Derek said, opening the door for the boy. Stiles got in, snorting.

“Then why are you the one taking me?” he asked. Ever since he could finally have a few words with Erica and Isaac, he could ask about Derek and Boyd too. Unfortunately, neither of them were too social when it came to normal human interaction. Isaac straight out said that neither of them liked humans due to their experiences in the past. And that was like a red rag to Stiles, he jumped on that information like a PI. It was difficult to reach Boyd as he was working smooth and quiet and Stiles could never tell where he actually was. He had a feeling the wolf was actively avoiding him. Derek was the same, but Stiles at least could spot him a few times, due to the fact that Derek has to turn in reports to Lydia and his father.

But this time Stiles didn’t have to practically throw himself at the wolf and cling to him to get a few answers or just a normal conversation, today Derek was the one coming for him.

“I just wanted to show I’m thankful for you listening to me.” Derek said. “My crew seems to be smitten by you, and I’m also thankful for that.” he spoke like every word was causing him pain and Stiles realized it was how Derek just was…

“Don’t mention it.” He grinned and attempted to sit in the passenger’s seat of the car.

“If you would sit on the back seat, Mr. Stilinski.” Derek sighed, opening the door to make a point.

“No, I’m sitting in front—“

“It’s a security measure to seat you on the backseat, so if you please, or else I’ll have to use other methods to keep you there.” Derek hissed.

“What, you’re gonna knock me out like Peter did?”

“I might as well try it.” the wolf nodded. “Sit back.” he ordered and Stiles grudgingly got into the backseat. Derek was by the wheel in to time and they were on their way.

“I’m grateful for what you did for Isaac and Erica back there.” the wolf said, a bit quieter. “It may not have been a big thing for you, but it was important for them.”

“Hey, you don’t have to thank me. It should be the natural reaction of anyone.” Stiles said just as quiet. “I should be thankful… that you still took this job, even if you thought that I hate you all.”

Derek didn’t answer to that.

“I don’t hate werewolves. If I hate anyone, it’s humans. They were the ones killing my mother.” Stiles whispered, looking out of the window. “And your mother too.”

The wolf tensed up so suddenly that Stiles could basically feel the air freeze in the car. Stiles licked his lips, wondering if he should go on, but in the end he continued.

“I… know that your house was burned down, and most of your family died there.” he said. “I’m really sorry about that. I hope… I hope that in the future crimes like this won’t happen again. My father is working really hard for that, and… I guess now I know why it’s so important for you too.” Stiles spoke and Derek was still not answering. Stiles felt stupid for bringing this up. “Sorry.”

“Peter told you? About the… fire?” Derek asked then, quietly.

“No.” Stiles frowned. “I… just found out.” he added, shrugging.

Derek didn’t answer, though he didn’t say anything else during their trip to the school and back.

\--

Stiles was glad he could finally get to lacrosse practice regularly. It wasn’t always Derek who drove him there, seemingly they were taking shifts in that too.

Scott was also pleased to see him more and to meet outside the house. Stiles could update him about what was going on with him, from Danny’s request in exchange for access to the deep web to Derek’s little talk.

“Wait, you get invited to movie premiers!?” Scott gasped, almost choking on his coke.

“Yeah I do, but my plus one is Danny for now…” Stiles winced, looking at his friend apologetic. “But if he cancels you’ll be the first one I ask, alright?” he tried, but Scott still narrowed his eyes at him.

“Why didn’t you go to these before…?” Scott asked frowning. “Because of your mother?”

Stiles sighed, nodding.

“It’s just… too many people. And somehow I always have a feeling that he’s amongst them. You know?” he said, looking at his friend as he absently took a french fry. Scott looked down, nodding. “But let’s talk about other things, okay. I actually have good news for you.” Stiles said, clearing his throat.

“For me?” Scott snorted, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes you, you dumb idiot.” Stiles rolled his eyes. “The werewolf pin… there will be a voting about it not being mandatory to wear. Scott, this could happen.”

Scott’s eyes widened looking at Stiles, as if expecting a catch.

“Really?” he asked quietly and Stiles’ heart almost broke for some reason. He realized why his father and mother was doing this again. So no werewolf, shapeshifter, fae or any of those have to ask this question like this.

“Yes.” Stiles nodded. “Dad is collecting the votes now, and he said… that it is possible. However there are still people whos votes are questionable, but… it’s possible.”

“So it’s not sure.” Scott summed. “But possible.” he added, eying his friend. “That’s so fucking awesome.” he started grinning then. “Stiles, if they vote for that—“

“I know! It’s gonna be huge, it’ll change this all.” Stiles grinned. “None of the other states will refuse to follow at this rate.”

Scott laughed with him and Stiles finally thought that their work, his father’s work will have a meaning. The pin removal will be a huge step in their fight. It’s not yet equality but close. Finally supernatural creatures will not be discriminated and branded as such. Of course there were still areas where the badge will have to be mandatory to wear, for example in the army, or in hospitals purely for practical reasons. But on the streets, or any of other areas, the supernatural can only be outed if they consented to it. They could keep that right. It was also the reason why Scott so wanted to keep away from the pin. He had a girl he liked and he wasn’t sure that she would be thrilled if she’d known what Scott exactly is. Even if he wasn’t the one choosing this life.

Stiles begged Boyd to take Scott back to his house and for his greatest surprise the guard actually let them make that detour. Stiles loved Scott’s house. It was small and needed painting, but it looked like a home. Somehow. Even from the outside.

As Scott got out of the car and hurried up the stairs to their door, his mother opened it. She smiled at Stiles and waved at them. Stiles waved back, but tried to communicate that they can’t say.

“It’s a security breach!” Stiles shouted then, loving the horror on Boyd’s face at that. Scott mother’s just laughed and nodded. She saluted at Boyd before they got back into the car and drove home.

“How long have you been friends?” Boyd asked suddenly as they turned to the main road.

“Huh? With Scott? Now, let’s see… From elementary school… wow that’s more than ten years now.” Stiles frowned, typing away on his phone.

“Was he always a wolf?” Boyd started again and this time Stiles looked up at him, staring at the back of his head from the backseat.

“No, he was bitten. Like… I don’t know, a few years ago.” Stiles said, thinking about that night. It was way before his father and mother picked up fighting actively for supernatural creatures. He could still go out and wander the woods at night with Scott. They did it all the time, they had not expecting the feral werewolf chasing them at one point and biting Scott. Scott didn’t even go to the hospital or told anyone he was bitten as he was supposed to. He only told Stiles, because he was afraid they will lock him up or something equally worse. He will still have to wear the pin, because of course after a while they couldn’t keep it a secret anymore.

“And you stuck with him?” Boyd was smiling, judging by his voice and Stiles blinked a little.

“Yeah, he’s my best friend. I think he knows more about me than anyone else.” he said quietly. “I was so afraid they will take him away for good and I won’t see him again…” he added. When Scott finally told his mother, Stiles also felt safe to tell it to his parents. And they were very supportive. They were the ones advising Scott and Melissa that he can keep it secret until he’s 21. After that, he had to wear a pin.

Boyd sighed quietly, falling silent for a while.

“I owe Isaac five.” he said. “I thought Scott was just a token friend to show, you also care for werewolves.” he added. Stiles felt his cheeks burn from anger.

“If he were a token he’d have come out years ago!” he shouted. Boyd turned to him for a second as he was driving. “Or I could use someone more werewolfish, you know.”

“Make sense, Stiles. I apologize.” Boyd nodded.

Stiles huffed, glaring at the man, wondering if he was serious or just teasing. He knew that Hale and Co. was convinced that he wasn’t all supportive of his father’s cause, but he would have liked to get through that. Mostly because he was very supportive, yes, but not as actively in the past three years. Hhe was trying very hard to change that. To show people that Stiles Stilinski was also a supporter of equality.

“Just keep it up.” Boyd added, before he fell back to his usual silence again.

“I will.” Stiles agreed quietly, nodding. “I’ll make you all proud of me, okay? So you won’t have to question me ever…” he sighed, taking his phone again. Boyd said nothing, so Stiles wasn’t sure he believe him, but he really wanted him to.

\--

Somehow telling Scott that the bill is waiting to be voted made it far worse to wait for it. Stiles had no idea how, but it made him even more nervous than he was before. The days were passing in a slow pace, the nights stretched too long and along with all the classes and practice and gaming, Stiles still couldn’t calm down.

“How come you never take me to practice?” Stiles asked Peter one night when he couldn’t sleep. They were sitting by the island in the kitchen again. Stiles somehow found a pattern in Peter’s night patrols and he knew he would spend some time in the kitchen. He asked once why he would chose that room to chill and Peter told him it was because he could hear anything in there.

“Alpha’s orders.” Peter muttered, sounding bored.

“Is it because you’re too trigger happy?” Stiles challenged.

“It’s because I’m better at retrieving you from practice, remember?” Peter snorted. Stiles rolled his eyes. Of course he remembered; how could he forget. While the others were just threatening him to hurt him, maybe pushed him around a few times, Peter would seriously hurt him if he had the chance. He pulled a gun on him, he knocked him out to bring him back when he escaped, even though… he was also the one stopping him from cutting himself that night.

“I remember, thankfully.” Stiles admitted. “You didn’t hit hard enough for brain damage.”

“No more hits needed for that.” Peter retorted with a shrug.

“Wow you look like a hundred-year-old but you’re so damn immature…” the boy gasped. It earned a glare from Peter. “Can I ask you something?” he asked suddenly. Peter didn’t answer so Stiles took it as a cue to go on. “Do you want equality?”

Peter frowned a little, then he chuckled though, shaking his head.

“You’re coming at me three in the morning with your philosophizing instead of just writing it on social media as your little buddies.” he smirked.

“Shut up, and answer me.” Stiles huffed.

“So now, I should shut up or answer you?” Peter teased more and Stiles hated how his mouth pulled into that smirk he started to love. The way his lips moved, the way his jaw set and his blue eyes looked at him all challengingly yet seemingly knowing every dirty little secret of Stiles’ soul. Stiles loved it. It scared him, but he loved it.

“Tell me.” Stiles licked his lips, noting how Peter’s gaze followed the movement. The man tilted his head back, eying the boy as if he was contemplating on something.

“I’ll tell you another time.” he muttered quietly, his gaze casting a glance at the camera in the corner of the kitchen for a brief second, but Stiles didn’t miss it.

“Not now?” Stiles tried again, but Peter refused to answer instead he just commented on how the curtains of the kitchen went really well with the tiles of the floor. “Okay, okay I get it! You just don’t want to tell me what you think, I get it.” the boy groaned.

“So now you’ll stop bothering me for the night. I also have some schedule to keep.” Peter sighed, standing from his stool to leave. Stiles watched him move, like he did so many times before. Peter was strong, he could tell, and the wolf had no noise to his steps or to his movements, unlike Isaac or Erica. He was smooth and different, but Stiles couldn’t exactly tell how.

“You really don’t remember?” Stiles asked before Peter could leave the kitchen. “In the club…?”

“Have a great night, Stiles.” Peter waved without turning back and as Stiles hurried to follow him, he disappeared in the corridor. Stiles could never know where exactly…

\--

The boy was smart, Peter realized again. He was maybe smarter than Peter expected but that shouldn’t make him shiver in anticipation like this.

Peter knew routines were dangerous. Patterns and routines could make him vulnerable and an opportunity for others to find him. But this time, he couldn’t help himself. Stiles could still found his pattern and catch him when he was in the kitchen. Peter was honest enough with himself to admit he liked it, even though he shouldn’t.

He wasn’t here to like the Stilinski boy, he had a different goal in mind.

And yet he found himself sitting in the kitchen, waiting for the boy to figure it out and catch him there, asking stupid questions, smelling like sadness, excitement and something else. Something sweet. Looking at Peter with wide eyes, huge and determined, and parted lips, barking away.

Sometimes Peter was thinking about making him shut up. Just a little. And then making him breathe other sounds. Making his wide eyes half lidded…

These thoughts were forbidden territory. These thoughts were like patterns: dangerous and he could easily get tangled in them, getting bounded and easy to spot.

And this wasn’t why he was here…

\--

“It has been signed.” Mr. Stilinski smiled at the attendants in his office. Stiles licked his lips, his heart skipping a beat. So this was the reason his father called for them this early in the morning. He requested Stiles, Lydia and Derek and a few of his men to meet him in his study. Stiles hoped it will be good news, and he had a few idea what could it be, but yet the announcement still made him speechless.

The declaration was followed by a tense silence. Everyone knew what has been signed, yet no one could believe it.

“Now it’s law.” Mr. Stilinski sighed, carrying his gaze around the people. Boyd, Isaac and Erica were also present with the others.

“For real?” Isaac dared to speak up quietly.

“For real.” Mr. Stilinski said, still smiling. “Ladies and gentlemen, your pins, please.” he said, holding out his palm. Stiles felt his heart beating fast in his chest. The bill, which stated that no supernatural creature has to wear the badge if they don’t want to is finally passed in California. They did it. It’s law now.

No one dared to move at Stilinski’s request. Stiles figured that they were still in disbelief over all of this. But then Lydia took the small, black pin from her blazer and handed it to Stiles’ father. Stiles gaped, along with Mr. Stilinski. They were not expecting this and judging by Lydia’s smug smile, she wouldn’t accept any other reaction from them.

The next one was Boyd with Isaac and Erica. Finally, Derek took off his pin and gave it to Mr. Stilinski. His gaze was stiff, his movements a little shaky. Stiles didn’t have to be a werewolf to know that this was affecting Derek greatly.

When all the pins were collected, Stilinski opened his drawer and threw it all inside.

“It’s not much, but still the first step for you to be accepted as an equal part of society.” he said. Stiles smiled, looking down at his feet. He finally felt like they were really doing this. That his mother’s sacrifice wasn’t in vain, that they can do this. His father can do this. “And it’s all thanks to you, that I could go on. I felt safe, I felt my boy was safe here, too.” Mr. Stilinski smiled, motioning around. Stiles blushed guiltily a little, looking anywhere but the people in the room. “And I have to thank you too, Stiles, for working hard on your own way.” his father said and the boy scoffed. He did absolutely nothing for this to pass, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“So all in all, thank you again for your hard work, everybody.” Mr. Stilinski smiled.

“It’s because you keep giving us hope.” Derek started suddenly. “You made us see that this isn’t about us against humans, but with them. Our kind also has to accept equality.” he said. Stiles blinked at him, while his father just nodded.

“I’m glad, Derek. But there is a lot we must still do.” Mr. Stilinski answered. “Now, go on with your day, thank you for your time. Derek, please tell your men to remove their pins and Stiles, good luck for tonight.”

“Wha- wait, why?” Stiles suddenly perked up at that. Why would he need luck for tonight again?

“The Whittemore Gala, Stiles.” Lydia rolled her eyes as she stepped to him. Stiles heard Isaac and Erica chuckle on their way out. “Fundraising gala, held by the Whittemores. It’s their yearly fundraising gala affair, Stiles.”

“Yes, but… I thought…” Stiles frowned, looking at his father. “It’s always you who’s going.” he said.

“I have a flight to catch tonight. I already told them that you’ll be attending in my place.” Mr. Stilinski said apologetically. “Will you be able to handle it?” he asked, frowning. And that look made Stiles’ stomach to drop.

“Yes.” he answered too fast. “Yeah, of course, it’s just a gala, with food and auctions and people and reporters…”

“I’ll prepare you for the press, don’t worry.” Lydia smiled. “The rest will have to be handled by your marvelous self.”

“My marvelous self can handle things, but I’m not sure if it’s this gala.” Stiles chuckled nervously. “But yeah, yeah I’ll go. It’ll be fine. I’m sure people will be curious about what’s the next step after this bill.”

“Good thinking Stiles.” his father praised. “I’ll have to go now, see you in a few days. And really, good luck. Aside from everything the Whittemores can be really difficult to handle. Especially their son.”

Those last words were echoing in Stiles’ mind as he was leaving with Lydia. He knew the Whittemore son, Jackson. He didn’t know him personally of course, but he knew him from videos, articles and the dirty little sources he had. Jackson had an inferiority complex and a huge temper along with it, pairing with obsessive behavior, but Stiles couldn’t judge him for that. Either way, he knew the type at least.

Stiles wasn’t sure he was ready for this gala on such a short notice even if Lydia and his father has sent him many reminders weeks before. It’s just somehow Stiles didn’t really care. But Lydia did her best to prepare him for all kinds of questions from the press and she assured him that she will also attend and if anything goes wrong he can find her and she will handle it. As always. Stiles hated to admit it, but it was actually pretty reassuring that Lydia will also be there.

The worst thing was that Stiles had to wear a tuxedo for the occasion and he wasn’t sure he didn’t look like a giraffe in some fancy dress and a bowtie.

“Bowties are cool.” Stiles muttered as he set it, checking his attire in the mirror before he would get to the limousine. He was always nervous before these kind of events. The car, the people… the fear from the unexpected, if there will be a gunshot as he gets out of the car or not. Stiles took a deep breath and checked his watch - they were already late. Good. He winked at his nervous self in the mirror and off he went.

“Have a good trip, Mr. Stilinski.” Derek said as he greeted him by the door.

“Thanks, and don’t let the puppies out while I’m not home. I’ll know.” Stiles grinned, but seemingly Derek still didn’t approve of his fantastic humor. The boy just laughed as he passed them and hurried down the stairs to the car, where Peter was already waiting for him.

“You’re gonna escort me tonight?” Stiles asked amused, checking the wolf. He was still wearing his working suit with a bowtie and Stiles caught himself thinking how he would love to see the wolf in a tuxedo. Peter didn’t look anybit happy for this set up.

“For my greatest displeasure.” he remarked. The boy snorted and got into the car. Peter followed, sitting next to him. Stiles looked at him grinning and ready to grill the wolf when he noticed that Peter was still wearing his badge.

“Hey, didn’t you hear?” Stiles frowned. ”The pins are not mandatory anymore. You can… you can take it off.”

“Hm?” Peter followed Stiles’ gaze to his chest, where the pin was still visible on his jacket. “I suppose old habits die hard.” he remarked quietly. He brushed his fingers over the small thing, then looked up at Stiles as the car left the mansion. “Would you take it off for me?” Peter asked in a low voice. For some reason, Stiles felt his cheeks burn up at the request. He just stared at the other for a while, wondering what he wanted with it.

“Me?” Stiles asked back a bit confused. Peter just raised an eyebrow at him. The boy then just nodded. “Oh, yes, okay…” he cleared his throat and moved closer to Peter. He wasn’t scared. What he felt was something else, something way scarier than fear, if that made sense… It was something Stiles knew he shouldn’t, he mustn’t feel, or at least not for Peter anyway. His fingers trembled slightly as he reached under Peter’s jacket or the pin. The back of his fingers brushed against the soft fabric of the man’s button up shirt, already warmed by his body. Stiles noted the smirk on Peter’s lips as it took him significantly longer time to remover the pin than it supposed to take. Peter was warm and close and overwhelming in the dim lights of the car.

“Here.” Stiles presented the pin to the wolf when he finally could get it off, hands still shaking.

“Keep it. Apparently, I won’t need it anymore.” Peter said quietly and Stiles literally pat himself on the shoulder that he could listen to his words over the sound of his rapid pulse in his ears. He wanted to move his hands once again to touch Peter’s chest, to feel his heartbeat with his palm. But as Stiles caught himself on that thought he quickly moved away. It was clear that Peter was just teasing him because of … whatever it was. And Stiles didn’t want to end up on the wrong end as he did at the beginning when Hale and Co. moved into their mansion. But he pocketed Peter’s pin quickly.

The rest of the trip was spent in an awkward silence on Stiles’ part. He was too aware of Peter’s presence next to him, so when they arrived at the gala, it was a relief. Stiles could barely wait for the wolf to get out of the car so he could leave too, barely noting that he wasn’t nervous or scared when he got out of the car. He was too busy to shake off the awkwardness of the ride.

Though, when Stiles finally thought he’s ready for the night, he had to stumble to a halt. As he took in the entrance of the place, and the decoration, all he could see was gold, white and red all over.

So much red…

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not betaed... yet.

 

 

The world seemed like it wanted to keep on swirling and then collapse on him, covering him with blood, Stiles thought. He felt cold sweat break on the back of his neck as he was staring up at the Whittemore estate, decorated with huge red curtains. The main theme of the decoration was definitely red with some golden and white thrown in, even if Christmas was nowhere near.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” someone asked and Stiles nodded on autopilot. If he pretended he wasn’t having an attack maybe it won’t be too embarrassing. “May I have your name, mister…?”

“Stilinski, Stiles.” he answered, licking his lips.

“Perfect, please go on Mr. Stilinski.” he heard and his feet obliged before he could really tell them to. Stiles quickly looked around him, searching for Peter, but as usual the wolf was nowhere to be found. Even if Stiles knew that he was around, well, hoped he was.

As he entered the mansion there were people everywhere, and those hideous red curtains and flowers decorated the walls, windows and doors. Stiles tried to keep himself together, but he wasn’t sure how. He knew his first thing should be to find the people Lydia mentioned to him and greet them, but at the moment he felt he wouldn’t be able to talk to them, only throw up on them. Definitely. So instead he went to find the champagne and he didn’t have to be disappointed. Though he threw the piece of red strawberry out from the drink; he couldn’t bear looking at it.

Stiles chugged down his first glass of drink without stopping, hoping it will help with the rest of the evening. Though as he turned back to the people and the huge living room he shivered again. There was just so much redness all over and he felt his whole body going into shock again. He needed air, badly. Thankfully, the garden was also open for the guests for this great weather so Stiles took another glass of champagne and headed that way. He so badly wanted outside, he was barely seeing where he was heading.

The boy basically collapsed on one of the chairs. He was at this gala for what? Ten minutes now, and he already wanted to leave. He really, really wanted to leave. He looked at the house, decorated in red and he wanted to run and just run and hide, like a coward. He started to feel the champagne too, making him dizzy and feeling that too familiar buzz in his head and limbs. Stiles knew he shouldn’t drink more and yet, he emptied his current glass too.

His father trusted him with this gala, and Lydia was there with all her support, he couldn’t fuck this up just because the color red made him want to claw his eyes out. So Stiles took a deep breath and stood up again to go back in and greet all those important people Lydia was talking to him about.

He tried to prioritize, putting the easy people on the top of his list slowly working toward the more sensitive people. And it was very, very tiring. Stiles tried not to drink too much when he realized it wasn’t helping with his anxiety over the red decorations. He was trying to handle all the interviews and conversations quickly and light, repeating the same shit Lydia made him learn. It was like a play, an act, and that helped.

Until he reached Jackson Whittemore.

“Mr. Whittemore.” Stiles started, stepping to Jackson when he wasn’t surrounded by his current crew. “I just wanted to greet you and congratulate on this extravagant gala. Once again, you and your parents can be proud.” Jackson was eying him a little confused, probably thinking who the hell he was and Stiles didn’t actually want to enlighten him.

“Oh my, you’re Stilinski Jr. aren’t you?” Jackson started when he realized who Stiles was.

“Just Stilinski.” he sighed, licking his suddenly dry lips. It hasn’t been two sentences and he was already tired of this. Very much so. Jackson looked at him as if he were looking at some zebras in the zoo, with bored acknowledgment.

“I heard you went nuts after your mother has been shot in front of you.” he spoke and for a moment Stiles didn’t believe he heard these exact words from Jackson’s mouth.

“Well…” Stiles blinked, still trying to recover from that shot while his host continued.

“I heard that you had the full treatment, with white walls and the straitjacket and all. Like you went full blown crazy.” Jackson said, his smirk widening. Stiles knew this expression, it was the high of being in control, having power over someone. He hated it.

“Yeah well, what do you know, not all the gossips are true.” Stiles cleared his throat, feeling the too familiar feel of anxiety again. He took a gulp from his champagne. “I’m here to say my greetings, me and my father left some donations for you too. It’s a lovely evening, but I think I’ll be leaving early.” he recited the words and raised his glass to sign that he was out of this conversation.

“Wait a second, Stilinski.” Whittemore started following him. “Gossips are gossips, indeed, but not the passing of the bill. It’s a law now.”

“Aren’t you clever?” Stiles snarked, despite his best judgment. Jackson didn’t look amused either.

“I just wanted to ask if it’s really the right way to do this.” Jackson started. “Now we can’t see who’s a creature and who is human, Stilinski. Who knows, maybe there are more of them on this gala than we would expect.” he spread his arms, smirking as if he would just be the one striking gold. He was talking loud enough for the people to hear around him.

“I don’t know, Whittemore, maybe that’s the whole point of it.” Stiles frowned, turning to Jackson again, feeling his pulse rising.

“Yes, but for whom? Definitely not for us. Now they can hide among us, they can pretend they are human. Who knows, maybe the reason behind this was so you don’t have to wear the pin when you become 21. Maybe you just wanted to hide too. Maybe mommy was a shifter, maybe a werewolf, that’s why she was targeted?”

“Enough.” Stiles started before he gave the order to his mouth. Jackson was venturing to dangerous waters in many ways.

“Oh, did I hit a nerv? Is it because it’s true?” Jackson asked, his eyes narrowing at Stiles as if he was trying to read him. But Stiles knew better, he knew that Jackson can’t read anyone for shit.

“You’re being a fucking idiot and you’re disrespecting my mother’s memory. She died because humans are afraid of the supernatural. Instead of getting to know them they want to mark them, put them in camps and control them. Does that remind you of anything? Or not really, because I really wouldn’t be surprised then.” Stiles hissed. Jackson snorted.

“You were the one disrespecting the basic human right for safety, Stilinski.” Jackson retorted. “You and your father.”

Stiles felt something snap in him. The red all around, the drink, the thought of his mother and Jackson’s insolence was too much to bear.

“Basic human rights, huh?” he started instead of what he really wanted to do. He could have broken his glass and cut Jackson’s neck open with its shards in front of everyone. But Stiles had something far sharper in his hands. Information. “Basic human rights you have denied from your workers in the factories up north. Three shifts a day, delayed payments, inhumane living conditions. You’re employing immigrants and I heard supernatural creatures as well, promising them better working positions if they can survive a year by the running line. And guess what? They never get it, they never get a raise, or they don’t see any of the raised funds you do here.”

“Oh yes, and about the fundraising.” Stiles continued when he sensed Jackson has nothing to say to that. “Where does the money go again? To Africa to save the starving children, or channeled through the local government to your shady little businesses? I know, Whittemore. I know it all, what you and your father do. While your mother is screwing the gardener in a drunk haze every. Damn. Night.” he added with a smirk and that was when Jackson shouted something at him. But Stiles didn’t actually remember, because all he saw that the boy was raising his glass and throwing it at him. Stiles dodged it with his hand which was a bad idea, because it broke cutting into the back of his hand. He hissed at the pain, but then Jackson was the one jumping at him. He grabbed his jacket and pushed him down the floor. Stiles heard screaming and loud calls, but he was too busy shielding himself from Whittemore’s punch… which never came.

Instead Stiles heard Jackson yelp in pain and when he opened his eyes he saw Peter prying the teen off of him. The wolf had an iron grip on Jackson’s arm as he twisted it behind his back.

“Are you alright, Mr. Stilinski?” Peter didn’t sound strained at all as he was keeping Jackson in his hold, who looked more in pain, not angry like he was just a moment ago.

“Yes- yeah…” Stiles stuttered, watching as Peter pushed Jackson away toward the guards that were hurrying toward them. The wolf didn’t pay attention to them, not how Jackson told them how Stiles was provoking him. Everyone saw what happened and if a guard was even a little professional they would try to soothe the scene as soon as possible.

Peter knelt down as Stiles was trying to sit up, dizzy and overwhelmed from what just happened.

“Can you stand?” the guard asked, holding his hand for Stiles and the boy took it without hesitation. Though as he wanted to answer his gaze fell on the wound now bleeding heavily and Stiles felt sick.

“No…” he chocked, pulling his hand away. “No…” Stiles gasped, feeling it all coming back. The fear, the nervous energy that he tried to suppress ever since he stepped into this hellhole. He tried to take a deep breath but it was like his lungs refused to take any air in. He wheezed, looking around in panic, feeling the whole attack coming down on him at once. People were all around coming closer, all looking at him. Stiles heard questions, voices; he saw faces and dresses and red, so much red again. “Peter…” he managed to choke out and the next moment he felt the wolf slide his arm under his torso and under his knees to lift him up. Stiles felt how warm he was as Peter moved him, his shoulder pressed against his chest and he could lean his head on his shoulder. Peter smelled sweet, the same scent Stiles remembered from long ago, in that damn club, with that stranger…

He felt Peter carrying him away from the noise and the red and the people, though Stiles was too busy trying to regulate his breathing. His hand was holding Peter’s jacket as if his life depended on it, and maybe it did. He heard a door open and Peter muttering a low thank you to someone, his words vibrating through is chest and Stiles loved the feeling. The air has changed, it was a bit cooler than a few minutes earlier, the noise died. It was quiet. Stiles finally opened his eyes, to look around as Peter lowered him down on a bed with too expensive covers on them. A guest room, of course. They were still in the mansion and Stiles groaned, letting out a dry sob.

Peter walked to the door and locked it, which Stiles was ever grateful. At least for a while he didn’t have to face anyone anymore. He was still breathing heavily, but he felt a bit better, though the world was still dancing around him. He didn’t want to stay here, but he knew he had to calm down to a presentable state at least until they can bring the car.

“Show me.” Peter spoke gently, like a caress and for a moment Stiles had no idea what he was talking about. But then he man reached for his hand again, examining the wound. And Stiles took a sharp breath, burying his face into the covers of the mint scented bed. He hated it. “It’s not deep.” Peter muttered, and Stiles felt the wolf’s hot fingers caressing his skin. He shivered.

“It hurts.” Stiles wheezed, not looking at Peter or his hand.

“Are you sure it’s the wound that hurts?” the wolf commented which made Stiles freeze. He didn’t answer. Peter then gently wrapped Stiles’ hand in a cloth, which Stiles guessed was his handkerchief from his pocket. When he finished, Stiles could finally look at his hand and at Peter. Though there were still bloodstains everywhere.

Stiles took a deep breath and pushed himself up to sit. He felt exhausted and terrible. He hurt Jackson and probably he caused at least five headlines for tomorrow’s papers. He could have handled it calmly, professionally as Lydia told him…

“Are you laughing at me?” Stiles asked when he noticed Peter was looking at him with a smirk. It was a small one, only reserved for rare occasions to Stiles.

“Quite the opposite, Stiles. I’m amazed.” the guard smiled.

“For what? For me freaking the fuck out back there?” the boy asked, motioning toward the door.

“For the way you decided to fight back. You weren’t protecting yourself, but attacked that brat with everything you had, Stiles.” Peter raised an eyebrow. Stiles licked his lips. That was true, he wasn’t going easy on Jackson; he basically went full Hulk on him. “And he couldn’t fight back at all.”

“He threw a glass at me.” Stiles snorted.

“But nothing else.” Peter retorted. “He could have done much worse, just like you did.”

“As if I’d let him get to know anything about me.” the boy grumbled, fisting his hands, but hissing in pain.  “I won’t let anyone ever find a weak spot on me or my dad, I won’t give them that, never again. Not after what they did to mom, I’ll never…” he gasped for air, feeling his eyes burn. He felt his attack come again to make his life miserable, but he couldn’t stop talking. “I’ll never let anyone to hurt us, I’ll destroy them, I’ll…” he panted, feeling that familiar rage he often did when determination hit him.

Stiles took a deep breath to try and calm down and then he felt a caress on his cheek. Peter reached out to touch him gently, his hands brushing against his face and Stiles just realized his tears fell from his eyes. He cursed, closing his eyes, but for some reason he leaned into Peter’s touch. It was warm and reassuring and everything he wanted in that moment.

Though Stiles didn’t expect the wolf to lean in and press his hot lips against his forehead. Stiles let out a breath, feeling Peter’s lips and goatee scrape against his skin. Alright, maybe this is what he wanted more than that touch. But Peter wasn’t done. He caressed his temple with his lips, greeting Stiles again with butterfly kisses down his cheek. Stiles felt his heart beat faster for different reasons than panic and anxiety. He wasn’t sure if Peter wanted to pull away, or kiss him, but he wasn’t going to give him that choice. This time Stiles leaned in to capture Peter’s lips in a light kiss. It really was just a gentle touch of their lips, but Stiles felt it in all his body. He reached up to take Peter’s hand on his cheek and pressed closer again, kissing the man’s lips. The wolf let out a small sigh and kissed him back and Stiles thought he will die then and there.

He didn’t want to give that moan he did, but Stiles couldn’t help it. A small sound escaped from him and Peter tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Stiles felt his tongue slide against his and yet another moan escaped him. He reached out, cupping Peter’s face with his hands, fingertip brushing against his hot skin, feeling his stubble while he was tasting his tongue. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, yet it was new. Stiles couldn’t explain it, but he didn’t even want to. He just wanted to…

Stiles just wanted to kiss Peter. All night. Forever.

Peter stroked his sides and slowly moved his hand upwards, tugging at Stiles’ bowtie. He let it untie slowly before he started working on the buttons. And Stiles didn’t stop him. Not yet.

“Nn…” Stiles gasped when Peter pushed him down the bed and continued kissing him. Now it was becoming a bit scary, but Stiles welcomed it with morbid excitement. Peter was huge and alive and hot above him as he kissed down his chin, his neck to the small area he managed to get free from the cover of Stiles’ shirt. And when Peter kissed at the base of Stiles’ neck he arched up, asking more of it. But thankfully Peter had more control than Stiles in this moment and pulled away a bit. Though Stiles could still feel his breath on his neck as he was talking.

“I wanted to do this for a long time now.” Peter said in a low, velvet voice, his hand stroking Stiles’ side absently.

“You did…?” Stiles asked back a little out of it, tilting his head to see Peter’s gaze,

“Ever since I had a taste of it back then. In the club.” the wolf answered. “In the Jungle.” he said quietly and Stiles gasped.

“You do remember…” he muttered.

“Of course I do, Stiles. I remember everything.” Peter whispered, his hand coming up to stroke Stiles’ cheek again. The boy didn’t say anything just watched Peter, trying to remember that meeting. He was drunk, very drunk. He was trying to pick up someone to wreck him in any way possible, and he stumbled upon this man. He had no idea how, maybe Peter was coming for him. But they ended up in one of the stalls of the bathroom, surrounded by people’s voices of having a very good or very bad time. But instead of fucking him, Peter told him something that Stiles couldn’t forget at all.

“You told me to seek revenge.” Stiles whispered.

“And you listened.” the man nodded. “You took a stranger’s advice and went with it.”

“Why didn’t you just fuck me like anyone else would have?” the boy asked, his hands coming up to rest against Peter’s chest, feeling his strong and confident heartbeat.

Peter’s lips pulled into that damn smirk Stiles loved, his blue eyes glinting with something dark and instead of fear Stiles felt intrigued.

“I’ll tell you another day.” Peter whispered, leaning down to kiss Stiles again before the boy could complain how he could be such a poser.

“Mm, I know, I know…” Stiles gasped when Peter finally let him breathe. “It’s because you want to fuck me now?” he panted. The wolf shook his head.

“Not like this and not in this room, Stiles. We’re still on enemy territory.” he said, though Stiles could hear a slight shiver in his voice. Peter’s eyes seemed to be brighter blue too.

Stiles frowned, looking at Peter, watching his face, taking in his whole existence again. His sweet scent, his warmth, his strength and the way he moved like a predator. He wasn’t like a guard, he wasn’t actually protective… Stiles realized Peter was different from the others in way many aspects. Yet he felt the safest in his presence.

“Stiles.” Peter smiled at him, amused at something Stiles didn’t actually get. “I have to take you back.”

“So my father can tell me how disappointed he’s again?” the boy asked sighing. “I fucked up even if he specially told me not to. And you know what? I think he’ll know about this shit way before than anyone else.”

“If it matters, Stiles, I believe you have done the right thing. Despite what your father would say.” Peter said. “And you seem in better shape than a few minutes ago.”

“I feel like shit.” the boy commented.

“Perfect.” Peter smiled and leaned in for a chaste kiss again. “Shall we go then?” he asked. Stiles sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He was still drunk, still exhausted, but not in panic anymore. Maybe catching some hours of sleep would really help him.

“Just one more thing…” he started then, sitting up again, feeling the cool air hitting his collarbone where Peter freed him from his bowtie. “This… what… what was this?” he asked, motioning between them.

Peter sighed, not answering for a long time. Stiles wondered what he was thinking about. But then, he had no answer to his own question either. He will need a cool head for that.

“Let’s say… I called in one of my favors.” Peter decided then. Stiles nodded, he could accept that. For the moment. But he knew it will come back haunting him for a while.

“Okay.” Stiles nodded again in a hoarse voice. “If there’s more don’t… don’t hesitate, alright?” he smirked weakly, watching Peter stand up with a low chuckle.

“Let’s go, Mr. Stilinski.” Peter called him, holding his hand out for him. Which Stiles was very thankful, because his knees were still shaking and his body didn’t want to cooperate with him anymore.

Stiles was also glad that they lead him to the car without drawing too much attention through the back garden, so he didn’t have to face too many of the guests or any reporters that would ask stupid questions. He wasn’t ready for either of them.

In the car, Stiles sat tightly against Peter, leaning his head on his shoulder and falling asleep.

\--

Peter knew that teasing Stiles into taking off his pin was a dangerous game. And then the boy had to go around, smelling like panic and desperation and getting himself drunk enough to attack their host… and Peter realized again as he took the boy in his arms that he went too far with his games.

Though he had to admit, the way Stiles bit at Jackson’s neck was kind of amusing. The glint in Stiles’ eye before he told all those things to the Whittemore brat was sparking something in Peter too. And then knew he was done. His wolf decided to take the boy no matter what.

Peter sighed as he listened to Stiles’ calm breathing, feeling his warm presence tucked by his side, his head a comfortable weight on his shoulder. This boy was already special, but Peter didn’t expect him to be special _to him_. Before he knew it, his hand was coming up and he dug his fingers into Stiles’ hair gently, petting it.

No one could see them in the backseat of the limousine until they get back to the Stilinski house. They were hidden from the chauffeur by the divider and the windows were blackened, so no one from the outside could see. They were alone, for a little while.

The wolf sighed, turning his head to press his nose on the top of Stiles’ head, smelling that sweet scent again that was Stiles’ own, and most probably not even the other werewolves picked up on it. It was only for Peter and his wolf.

His glance fell on Stiles’ hand on his thigh, still wrapped in his handkerchief, being stained by his blood and Peter felt like growling. Equality, he wondered. How can equality be gained when some humans also thought they are better than others? He reached out with his other hand to pet it, feeling a strange hint of protectiveness. Though, as Peter was thinking about it, it was more of a feeling of anger. Anger that one of his possessions were damaged by someone.

“Your eyes…” he heard Stiles mutter, his warm breath tickling his neck. Peter glanced at the boy, finally being aware that his eyes were glowing blue. He blinked a few times to stop it. “They glow blue.”

“That they do.” Peter sighed quietly, eying Stiles. The boy was looking at him, as if he was still searching for the glow in his irises.

“I like it.” Stiles whispered. “I like it more than Derek’s red ones.” he added with a drunk smile and it shouldn’t make Peter’s heart skip a beat. He smiled a little, shaking his head and took Stiles’ injured hand, looking at it again.

Stiles turned his glance at his hand too, watching Peter’s fingers in silence as they stroke over the stained handkerchief.

“Once you asked me if I believe in equality.” the wolf started quietly. “I will be completely honest with you, Stiles.” he said, sliding his fingers around the boy’s, squeezing his hand lightly. “I don’t think we can be equal.”

Peter felt Stiles tense up, though he didn’t move away.

“Why not?” he asked instead. And Peter smirked.

“Because humans are so little, so petty, so… fragile.” he whispered, looking out the window. “While the supernatural is so much more. If you only take werewolves, Stiles, how can a race that has the best from humans and wolves can be equal to _humans_?”

“Peter…” Stiles started quietly, sounding like the wolf wanted to make him eat something he didn’t want.

“Humans and creatures are not equal and never will be.” Peter muttered. “Everyone who thinks that is naïve.”

“That’s not true.” Stiles sighed. “It’s not about power, it’s…” he started, but Peter chuckled.

“Everything is about power, Stiles.” he said and it made Stiles shut up.

Peter could hear the rapid heartbeat of the boy, and he could almost hear the thoughts and counterattacks in the boy’s head too drunk to voice them all, too tired to say them. But maybe one day he will and he won’t have mercy. Just like he had none for Whittemore.

“Then why are you here, Peter?” Stiles asked and Peter realized that he may have said too much. “Derek and the others believe in my father… if you not, then why are you here?” Stiles asked again after the wolf didn’t answer.

Peter took a deep breath, turning his head to press a kiss on Stiles’ forehead. It was a simple question and he had a simple answer to it a while back. Yet, he found it wasn’t that simple anymore.

“Alpha’s orders.” he dismissed the question. Stiles chuckled a little, pressing against him tighter, even after what Peter said about equality. Peter let him slip back to sleep too.

When they arrived back to the Stilinski mansion, Derek was waiting for them by the entrance. For some reason Peter wasn’t looking forward to this meeting. He looked at Stiles tucked by his side and decided not to wake him and gathered him in his arms.

“What happened?” Derek asked as Peter was getting out of the car.

“Judging by your temper, you already know.” Peter snorted, attempting to walk past him.

“Report to me, Hale. Immediately.” the other wolf hissed. “Was there an incident?”

“There was no incident, it was two teenage boys cockfighting and things have gotten ugly. It was almost like that show on MTV, what is it? Sweet Sixteen?” Peter spoke and apparently he was too amused for Derek’s current mood.

“I told you not to let him drink!” Derek snapped as they reached Stiles’ room. He was so loud Peter was surprised Stiles could sleep through it. Lucky brat.

“Now, what am I, his babysitter? That’s why Ms. Martin was there.” the wolf frowned at the other. “Would you open the door, dear nephew?” he asked. Derek glared at him for a moment, but opened the door. Peter carried the boy inside, laying him down the bed. His wolf wanted to put him in clean clothes, cover him and stay by his side, but with Derek barking at him it was impossible. He knew that Boyd is already focused on the monitors, so Stiles is under surveillance now. He’s safe.

“He’s hurt!” Derek started again when they left the room.

“He’s just drunk.” Peter frowned, setting his jacket straight, or attempted to, because Derek grabbed him to slam him against the wall.

“I gave you orders and you have ignored all of them!” he hissed, his eyes flashing red. Peter felt his lip move from his teeth too. He was never impressed by Alphas. Not after the fire, not after what Derek did to him. Not after he was left to live an incomplete life. Though he had to swallow his pride, if he wanted to keep his position in this pack.

“He cut his hand, but he’ll live.” he growled back, holding back with all his strength. “And yes, I let him drink. Do you know why? It was called the Red Gala for a reason, Derek. Everything was red. The curtains, the carpet, even the damn little decorations in the drinks.” he spoke, seeing Derek grew confused and Peter realized that he may haven’t paid that much attention to Stiles’ file. “We all have our triggers, Derek. Don’t we?” Peter smirked, and the wolf froze.

“You should have retrieved him then.” Derek growled.

Peter chuckled humorless, looking away. Yes, that’s what Derek would have done. But he was curious what Stiles would do and oh, the boy was marvelous if anyone asked him.

“It didn’t occur to me, I apologize.” Peter licked his lips, turning his gaze back at Derek. He knew the other didn’t believe him. But that was not the point.

The point was, to stay in the pack until his business was done.

Derek then let him go, pushing him a little as an act of dominance.

“I’m tired of covering for your ass to Mr. Stilinski.” he sighed, rubbing his eyes. “And to Ms. Martin. She was furious when she called me.”

“Oh I can imagine.” Peter smirked, dusting the sleeves of his jacket. “Now, I’m going to be a good boy and report to Boyd, in detail. Will that be satisfactory, Alpha?” he asked, loving the annoyance in Derek’s gaze.

“Go.” the wolf said, and Peter casted a last glance at Stiles’ door before leaving.

\--

The morning, Stiles woke for the sound of his alarm. But wait, it’s been years since he set any alarm… He groaned, blindly reaching for his phone and pressed it to his ear.

“Mmnyeah?” he muttered, just to wince in the next moment at Scott’s screaming.

“You kicked Jackson Whittemore’s ass?!”

“Scott, oh my god, I wish you’d fact check before these accusations…” Stiles groaned, being extremely proud he could say those words without messing up. He felt tired, his hand hurt he had a bad hangover and all in all like he could sleep three more days.

“There’s a video of it too, I saw it dude.” Scott sounded pretty confused.

“Did the video show how Peter had to pry him off of me?” Stiles asked, rubbing his eyes.

“No… Who’s Peter again?” his friend asked and Stiles wondered if he ever talked to Scott about the guards in the house at all or Scott just remembered the ones he had met before.

“One of my bodyguards.” Stiles dismissed. “So… it really says I kicked ass?” he asked, sitting up in bed, receiving a full blown headache for his attempts.

“Yes, it says he provoked you and then you were fighting and the real loser is Whittemore. What did you do?” Scott asked.

“I just told the truth to that fucker, apparently he can’t handle that.” Stiles said, hearing Scott laugh. “So, have you heard? About the pin, Scott?” he asked then quietly.

“I did.” Scott sounded like he was smiling and Stiles could already see his damn puppy face. Even if they could meet Scott pretty regularly he still missed him sometimes. “Thank you.”

“It’s dad’s victory, Scott.”

“It’s Stilinski victory.” the boy added and it felt genuine to Stiles. He could believe anything Scott would tell him anyway. He was his best friend. “Mom is also happy, she really wants to invite you to dinner. If it’s not a security breach.” he added with a chuckle.

“Yes, I’ll talk to dad and the authorities and I’ll drag them there. I can’t wait to taste your mother’s grilled turkey again.” Stiles grinned.

“You better. So get yourself together and come already. See you in practice.”

As Scott hung up, Stiles stared at his phone. It was way into the morning and the last night’s gala seemed like a strange dream. Thankfully not a nightmare completely, thanks to Peter. Stiles quickly checked the news how it was translated for other people and he had to realize it actually had a positive message. Though he realized no news disclosed what he had told to Jackson. Of course Whittemores could stay in power so long, because they knew how to handle these kind of malfunctions. But at least it was out there that Whittemore childishly provoked Stilinski and got his butt kicked for it. Score.

Though Stiles wondered how Lydia and his father will react to this. Maybe Peter also gave his report, Stiles wondered as he was watching the pictures of the event. None had Peter on them, he really acted like a professional, keeping out of the way of the press. That gave Stiles an idea. He reached for his laptop on the nightstand and opened it. He had researched the Hale family, yes, but he didn’t recall that he found anything on Peter at all. Which was strange as he was thinking about it, because the guy definitely existed and he had some kind of relation to Derek.

Just when he typed in the address he wanted to access Lydia barged in without even knocking. Stiles jumped closing the laptop in a haste.

“Oh come on as if it has anything I haven’t seen before!” Lydia huffed, making a swiping motion with his hand. Stiles gaped at her.

“Why does everyone think I’m such a porn addict?!” he asked truly offended. He didn’t watch that much porn. Really. As if he had the energy and time…

“You have no one and you’re trapped in your house with constant supervision, I suppose it kinda calls for it.” Lydia retorted without missing a beat. Stiles licked his lips, point goes to Martin.

“Yes, right, okay. Sooo… you want to talk? I suppose?” Stiles started, rubbing his neck and looking around in the mess that his room was. He was also wearing last night’s clothes and he needed a shower. Badly. It was such a striking contrast with Lydia’s business get up with her perfect green blazer and skirt.

She pressed her lips together for a second then went to close the door.

“Oh god, this is about Jackson, isn’t it?” Stiles asked perking up. She sent him a look he wasn’t familiar with.

“How do you know those things?” she asked, crossing her arms and walking up to Stiles’ bed not really leaving any escape route.

“I… just do?” Stiles blinked.

“Really? Just do? About his mother too?” Lydia called, raising an eyebrow. Stiles winced and rubbed his forehead. That really was such a low blow, it’s not like it’s Jackson’s fault. “Stiles?”

“I have my sources alright?” Stiles tried, looking at her pleading.

“You also know that he’s-“

“He’s adopted, yes I know.” he interrupted, watching her intently. “What’s this about, Lydia? Why do you care?”

“I was working very hard to keep everything you spouted at his head a secret, Stiles.” she hissed with such anger Stiles felt scared for a moment.

“Lydia, I… I’d say sorry, but I’m not. He deserved it.” he retorted.

“He did.” Lydia agreed. “But that doesn’t make it better, Stiles.”

The boy frowned, looking at her again, as if he’d seen her the first time. She was aware of all the dirty little secrets the Whittemores had, for some reason. She knew so personal things of Jackson that Stiles could only get when he bribed some of his sources with an overly high price. But he doubted she would have done the same.

“You like him?” Stiles asked quietly. “Jackson, I mean. You—“

“Enough.” Lydia hissed. “I’m just here, Stiles, to warn you. I don’t want to choose between you and him. Play nice, Stiles. I want to work for Mr. Stilinski’s case, but if you keep this up I’ll have to…” she didn’t finish, but Stiles knew what she was about to say. She didn’t have to choose, she already did. So Jackson Whittemore was under the protection of Lydia Martin. What a surprise.

“You have such a shitty taste in men.” Stiles couldn’t help but remark.

“Same goes to you.” Lydia snapped, before he turned on his high heels and left Stiles in an awkward silence. What did she mean by that? Was it about the porn? Or Stiles was getting paranoid over his little ‘chat’ with Peter in the room, in the car… This time, he really wished it was about the porn. He wasn’t ready for whatever it was with Peter.

He opened his laptop again, typing in the address. He knew what he wanted to search for: Peter Hale. Stiles had known most about the Hale fire, about Derek and Laura. But there were no records of Peter at all. Yet he wasn’t killed in the fire, he was still alive and breathing. Stiles shivered because oh yes, he knew just how much alive Peter was. There was no way that someone with that warm skin was a ghost or hallucination. But no, he needed to focus now.

His research routine was always the same and it was always giving him results at first. Of course he sometimes had to dig deeper for more accurate information or had to put two and two together. But with Peter it seemed like all his sources were useless. They had agreed that Peter is mostly probably part of the Hale family, but that why there were no records of him was a mystery. Of course. Stiles found some faint clues that led to the hospital of Beacon Hills. In the hometown of the Hales. Writing about a catatonic man treated there, which was most probably Peter. But he didn’t seem too catatonic now. It was possible Peter took the identity of that man, Stiles had seen identity theft many times and even knew one or two persons who had taken the identity of a dead man. But Stiles didn’t get it, why would Peter take an identity of someone else? Stiles could think that maybe he wanted to be human, but Peter was a werewolf and he wasn’t hiding it. He could have just told everyone he was human, but he didn’t.

Stiles sighed, staring at his screen which didn’t offer him anything more than he already knew. He was just more confused. At this rate maybe he really has to ask someone about this issue. About Peter. He bit his lower lip as he carried his gaze around the room a little lost. He just accused Lydia that she has a bad taste in men, and Stiles had to realize that he might have the same issue.

Peter was mysterious and dangerous, Stiles already knew that he moment he pointed a gun at him. But then Peter told him that he didn’t believe in equality. Not because humans were too immature for that, but because the supernatural was much more grand in his opinion. It wasn’t, Stiles thought. They were different, yes, but equality wasn’t about being the same. It was about having the same rights…

Stiles sighed, looking down at his hand, wrapped in Peter’s handkerchief. Whoever Peter was, he was a bad person, and yet Stiles couldn’t wait the next time they could meet again.

\--

The scandal with the Whittemores and the Stilinskis was short lived and had no other victims than Jackson Whittemore’s pride. Stiles wasn’t sure if he was happy about it, but he figured that if he ever wanted to destroy the Whittemores he found the weak link. They must have also be aware of this. So hopefully they will keep away from them and their fight for equality. For his surprise his father didn’t comment too much on the incident. Just told Stiles to work on his right hook for next time. And that was the best comment Stiles ever received about the incident. He was actually proud.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not betaed, every mistake is mine, sorry about that.

 

Peter lazily played with the safety of his gun. He vaguely wondered how it was such a long time he used it. Since he pointed it at someone with the intention to kill them. Though, killing them wasn’t fun. But making them scared, making them mark his words for their next meeting. Peter’s second meetings were usually ending in death, not the firsts. He chuckled a little as he thought he was kind of missing his _job_. He wasn’t good at protecting people.

He turned his gaze at the monitors in front of him. The house was calm, like on any other nights. Ever since it was clear that the Stilinski household was protected by werewolves. Peter knew how their name was also a protection in some way. He also knew Derek received offers from different families ever since Stilinski was working hard for the rights of the supernatural creatures. Though, Derek refused all of them. He wanted to stick with this family, with Mr. Stilinski; with his cause. How noble. Peter sometimes wondered how they could come from the same family.

Carrying his gaze over the monitors he spotted Stiles in his room. Freshly showered. Not yet dressed. Peter caught his lips pulling into a smile. The picture of the camera wasn’t too high quality, but Peter could fill in the gaps. He could see the pale and pink of Stiles’ skin, the drops of the water rolling down, licking a path on territories Peter wanted to mark for himself too.

Peter clicked the safety off the gun, staring at Stiles as he was walking around slowly in his room, probably lost in thought, still with a towel hanging low on his lips.

Peter clicked the safety on, his gaze lingering on the boy’s broad shoulders he had under his fingers not long ago. Just a few days. They haven’t met since then, because Stiles was busy with the press and Ms. Martin and Peter had to tend some of his own affairs. Though his wolf was howling, wanting to take the boy again, wanting to smell that sweet scent of a mate again, and it wasn’t getting better with the distance. Peter was looking forward to the time they would see each other again for different reasons than he originally intended.

As Peter clicked the safety, Stiles turned around and raised his head. It seemed like he was looking straight into the camera. At Peter.

The wolf narrowed his eyes, wondering if Stiles knew about the camera, and if he knew that he was the one on monitor duty this night. He clicked the safety off.

Stiles reached for his towel and loosened it. Letting it drop on the floor. At this point Peter knew the boy was sure where the camera was. Peter felt a rush of excitement of that fact, because the location of that camera was confidential. Only the wolves of the Agency knew it was there. And Stiles, apparently.

“You’re going to show me something, Stiles?” Peter muttered, clicking the safety on his gun, trying the trigger absently. He was looking at Stiles’ naked body on the screen, still just standing by his bed, his hands fidgeting. He was nervous, Peter noted, even though there was no need to be. He was young and he seemed untouched, even if Peter knew he wasn’t. But the first time, when they met, Stiles was. He was sad and desperate and ready to be torn apart… and Peter wanted to. His sweet scent was calling Peter from miles away, that’s how he found that shitty club, and the boy holding onto the counter of the bar as if his life depended on it. He was wearing a dark suit and the smell of sadness and grief. As if he was coming from a funeral.

Stiles was only fifteen? Or sixteen? He was very young. Too young. Yet, as he turned to Peter with his eyes wild and intense, the wolf saw him as old as a god. He hesitated before he reached for him, placing a hand on his neck, drawing Stiles’ attention to him.

“Are you alone, little boy?” Peter remembered asking him and the one who answered him was the young teenager with the sweet scent and the grief in his heart, not the old god.

Peter smiled as he was watching the screen and thinking about their first meeting. And then the Gala. He didn’t plan that, not at all. Peter’s wolf was never considerate of his job, or of his life in general. It was rouge and impossible to control. And if it wanted something, he wouldn’t let Peter a moment of peace until he got it. This time it was really unfortunate, that the subject of his adoration was the same as the subject of his latest assignment.

Especially when it was showing up naked on his screen and seemingly… up to something.

Peter licked his lips, watching as Stiles sit down on his bed, still nervous. Peter couldn’t smell him, but he already could imagine his nervous scent. His wolf growled.

Stiles looked at the camera again, then took his laptop and opened it, searching for something. Peter turned his gaze toward the computer on his right, where they would receive data on Stiles’ activity on his laptop. He was opening a video, from that infamous folder. Peter gripped his gun tighter.

Stiles turned his head toward the camera again, hesitating again. In the end he slammed the laptop shut and scrambled for his towel.

Peter just realized he wasn’t breathing for a while. He took a small sigh, and set a comfortable position in his chair again. Suddenly he was aware how his clothes were too tight on his body and how skin wanted to be pressed to another’s. To a boy’s. To a boy’s who was more than he seemed.

He needed air. So the same time as Stiles hastily threw on a shirt and pajama bottoms, Peter put his gun away and reported he will be out of the monitoring room and went on his patrol. It wasn’t a necessity to do it, there were others who were patrolling, but Peter assured them it was better to keep out of his way while he was doing his. The only one who could order him around was Derek, and only because he was the Alpha and Peter needed to stay in this pack for a little while.

He went on his usual route, the one Stiles found out and he knew he will find the boy in the kitchen. Stiles was gulping away some orange juice straight from the box as Peter appeared… and he still smelled nervous.

Peter felt his own blood boil, remembering the too low quality picture of the camera and their too short time together on the Gala. And seeming, as Stiles spotted him, he remembered too. His pale cheeks found their cute, pink colors as Peter didn’t look away from him, but saying nothing.

Stiles then cleared his throat and put the drink back into the fridge, closing it. He was wearing a shirt and pajama bottoms, but Peter will forever remember his skin under all those clothes. He could smell him even from this distance too. Before Peter knew what he was doing he walked to the pantry door and opened it.

“Can you help me find something, Stiles?” he asked quietly, opening the door for the boy.

And Stiles understood. He licked his lips and looked around before he walked up to Peter, into the pantry.

Everything happened so fast after that. Peter stepped into the small, dark place, slamming the door in his haste. He didn’t bother with the light, he saw perfectly in the dark. There was barely enough space for the both of them there, but Peter didn’t mind, at least Stiles couldn’t walk too far from him. He reached out with his hand and pulled the boy in his arms, though Stiles didn’t need too much convincing.

Peter felt a growl bubble up his throat as Stiles pressed his body against his and his wet lips found his. Their kiss was nothing like the one at the Gala. It was like their very first, sloppy, dirty kiss Peter remembered from three years ago when Stiles was begging for his dick. The thought made him shiver for a moment, pulling Stiles tightly to him and hearing the boy moan into their kiss.

“Oh my god, oh my god…” Stiles moaned, sliding his arms around Peter’s shoulders. He smelled of shower gel, nerves, excitement and arousal. So much arousal. And in this small space Peter had a hard time keeping his cool head. His nose was full with Stiles’ scent, his wolf was pressing at his limits to get to the boy and ravish him. But it would ruin everything. “I missed you, I missed you…” Stiles rambled between kisses and that finally snapped Peter out of his haze.

“I was here all the time.” Peter smirked, tilting his head to kiss along Stiles’ jaw, down his neck. He knew the boy had no idea of werewolf habits, but as he tilted his head back to offer more skin Peter almost howled. He kissed into the offered skin like the hungry wolf he was, but he was careful not to leave marks. Not yet.

“In the pantry?” Stiles laughed breathless, pressing his hips against Peter’s, obviously not too ashamed of his erection. Oh, this boy, Peter wondered, he will make him go crazier one day. His hand dropped down on the back of the boy, squeezing his ass through his pants, coaxing a low groan out of Stiles. The boy grabbed his jacket on his shoulder so tight Peter was sure it will be left crumpled. “I never thought… you like sweets…” Stiles breathed then suddenly, making Peter slow down.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his hand sliding under Stiles’ shirt.

“You smell sweet…” the boy breathed and Peter stopped. He took a few deep breaths, against Stiles’ neck then found the light switch. Stiles blinked rapidly as the light illuminated them. “What…?” Stiles asked, looking at Peter then. His hair was tousled, his cheeks too red for Peter’s sanity and his lips… The wolf licked his own ones to prevent going in to taste them again.

Peter moved his hand and brushed his thumb over Stiles’ cheek, over that blush he wanted to see more and more. Especially knowing that it was for him. The boy’s half lidded eyes were seeking him questioningly, but still ready for anything. If Peter would say the word, Stiles would be on his knees. If Peter would go on, Stiles would gladly oblige…

“Oh, Stiles.” Peter breathed, feeling the boy shiver under his touch. “You have no idea how much I want to fuck you.”

Stiles’ scent peaked and his knees trembled. Peter pulled him closer to him.

“But…?” Stiles asked, swallowing. Peter wondered how he could still speak, taken that all his blood surely must have gone from his brain.

“But I’m on duty and it’s not exactly professional to fuck a client.” Peter breathed. “It’s a different profession.” he added, smirking. Stiles chuckled breathless too. “But I saw you, Stiles.” Peter whispered. “That was for me, back in the room, wasn’t it?” he asked, tilting his head.

“I…” Stiles started, licking his lips. “I wasn’t sure if… So I was right.” he grinned triumphantly and Peter loved that expression. Stiles was still a little shit with a too smart mind.

“You wanted to show me something.” Peter breathed, leaning his forehead against Stiles’.

“Y-yeah I…” Stiles stuttered, his body trembling against Peter’s. “But I wasn’t sure if you’re watching.”

“I was, Stiles.” Peter smirked, loving the blush deepening in Stiles’ cheeks again. “I want you to show me again.” he leaned close, pressing his lips against the boy’s.

“Tonight?” Stiles asked arching his body.

“The moment we part here, you go back to your room and show me. Show me how you want me to touch you and think of me. Make me see everything, Stiles.” Peter was talking, his hips grinding against the boy’s, just enough to make him want more.

“What about the tape… will it go on record? I don’t want others to…” Stiles panted.

“I’ll make sure it’s not on record. It’s no one else’s business.” Peter whispered, leaning in to kiss Stiles again.

Leaving that small space, letting go of Stiles’ warmth was like losing a limb. But Peter had been through worse and at least he knew he will have a wonderful night ahead of him.

But as the next night Derek called him to report, he wondered if it worth it.

“There’s half an hour footage missing from the Stilinski 3 tape.” Derek greeted Peter as he entered the monitor room the next night.

“Now, that’s terrible. Have you asked Mahealani about it?” Peter asked, frowning. Derek looked at him as someone who wasn’t impressed.

“I did and he said it was a communication error between the device and the server and he will personally make sure it won’t happen again.” he said. Peter smirked.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, my nephew, but you don’t seem to believe him.” he said, leaning against the door to look at Derek. The Alpha sighed and stood up from the chair he was sitting in to walk to Peter.

“This has never happened before.” he hissed.

“Derek, it’s a machine, even high tech cameras can’t be perfect all the time.” Peter frowned.

Derek didn’t answer, just looked at him. Peter knew he was trying to see if he had anything to hide. If he was lying. But it was useless. Peter could lie to Derek.

“I’m going to change your schedule.” Derek said suddenly. “I’ll put your position from the house to Mr. Stilinski. Valid from tonight. Boyd will take your place here.”

Peter’s smirk disappeared and he cursed himself for it.

“I told you I’m not good with working the day.” Peter started and Derek sent him a sharp glare. “Or you want to risk Mr. Stilinski’s safety because of my unprofessionalism?”

“You’re not unprofessional, you’re just hiding something.” Derek called him out. Peter didn’t answer. “You will do as I say. You will be with Mr. Stilinski, staying in the position I tell you, Peter. That, or I’ll have to let you go.” he added.

“You’re making a mistake.” Peter muttered quietly.

“Quite the opposite, I think I’m just correcting it. Go and be in position.” Derek growled, his eyes flashing red. And Peter turned and left with a sigh.

\--

Stiles kept counting the days after the third day. Four. Five. A week. A week and a half… But there was no sign of Peter. He tried to wander the corridors, the rooms, even the garden at night, but Peter was nowhere to be found. He was nowhere. Stiles was so desperate even that he checked the schedule too, but he didn’t find Peter’s name there. He wondered if he should ask about him, and casually sometimes he did. But the answers never satisfied him. They either told him he was with Derek or Boyd, or outside work, etc. And Stiles didn’t dare to ask more.

He was thinking about their last meeting, in the pantry… and later in his room when he was lying naked in his bed, not even needing porn to jerk himself off. But it wasn’t a simple jerking off, it was a show. For Peter. Stiles knew that the wolf was watching him through the camera and damn if it wasn’t exciting. He stroked himself imagining it was Peter’s hand. He sucked on his fingers imagining Peter’s tongue and as he slid a finger inside himself, he desperately wanted it to be Peter’s dick. He bit his lip every time he wanted to say Peter’s name, because what if it would still go on record… But Stiles didn’t care. He got himself off three times, thinking of Peter and showing him everything he could. It was one of the hottest experiences of his life.

One night on the second week of missing Peter he wandered into the kitchen again and his heart skipped a beat. For a moment he thought it was Peter leaning against the counter, but it was Derek. Stiles licked his lips, staring at him. Derek was never working the night, he knew this as a fact. And right now it even seemed like he was waiting for him. Stiles wondered for a second, if he should take this fight, but Derek was faster.

“He’s not here, if you’re wondering.” he said quietly.

“I can see that.” Stiles shrugged. “But you are, so… I guess something’s up. I guess you’re gonna tell me he’s dead or something.” he said which made Derek actually snort amused.

“As if it would be that simple. Death.” he muttered and Stiles wasn’t sure it was entirely for him. “No, he’s on a different schedule, mostly with Mr. Stilinski.”

Stiles hated how a relieved sigh left him. Damn it. Derek seemed to realize it too.

“I changed his schedule.” he said slowly, carefully.

“And why?” Stiles asked. The wolf didn’t answer for a while, thinking.

“Listen, Stiles, I’m not entirely sure what happened at the gala…”

“You can just pick a paper or browse the web and you can see!” Stiles interrupted.

“Not that.” Derek closed his eyes in frustration. “But after that.” he said, pinning Stiles with his gaze. “You know. Peter knows. But all I know that you two were reeking of each other, and a few days later we lost some footage.” he said. Stiles swallowed, realizing that Peter was true to his word and got rid of the footage. Derek was narrowing his eyes at him. “Whatever this is I’d prefer to stop it right now.”

Stiles felt dizzy for a moment.

“Of course we smelled of each other, oh my god, he was my bodyguard, he carried me away! And what the fuck I have to do with some missing footage?!” he tried and Derek shook his head.

“You can’t lie to me Stiles, _you_ can’t.” he said and Stiles wondered for a moment that who can lie to Derek then. “Believe me this is better for everyone.”

“Why would I believe you?”

“Because I want to protect you, this is my job.” Derek snapped. Stiles licked his lips, looking the man in the eye.

“Who is he?” he asked suddenly. Derek frowned confused. “Who’s Peter Hale?”

“He’s my uncle.” the wolf answered in a hoarse voice. He said the words, but they had more meaning than that. There was something more to them and Stiles wanted to know.

“There are no records of him.” Stiles blurted out, which made Derek frown more. “Why?”

“Because he died.” the man said quietly.

This time Stiles was confused. Even if someone dies there is the death certificate, the date of the funeral, the medical reports. But with Peter he found absolutely nothing of this.

“But how come you have him in your team, when he sounds- he sounds dangerous, Derek.” he summed, spreading his arms.

“Just keep away from him, Stiles.” Derek sighed, moving to leave and end this conversation.

“But I did nothing.” Stiles insisted, but Derek was done, holding up his hand that he told everything to Stiles that he should know. Which was far less than Stiles wanted. So Peter died? But how come he was alive? And Derek didn’t deny his existence, that he was his uncle. Or did he? Stiles felt his head buzz again with questions without answers. He hated this. This was the same feeling that hit him after his mother’s death. None of the questions had answers. And this time not even his reliable sources could help him.

Stiles got back to his room, feeling strangely out of breath. He was thinking about what Derek had told him and he was trying to look for their real meaning. Apparently, Peter has died, and he was dangerous. He had no record anywhere where Stiles looked, except that scarce useless information in the Hale files. Stiles checked it all, and it led nowhere.

So before Stiles knew it, he got his phone and shut himself in his bathroom and dialed Danny.

“Stiles, come on, you should sleep.” the man picked up, making Stiles roll his eyes.

“Pot to the kettle.” he snorted. “Danny, I need—“

“You need something again? What am I, Santa?” Danny interrupted, seemingly typing something with one hand.

“No, he would be much nicer to me.” Stiles huffed. “I just want Peter’s number.”

“Peter’s? You mean Peter Hale’s number? The current one?” Danny asked.

“Yeah, that… he had… has more?”

“Ask Derek.” Danny, dodged the question and it just made Stiles more curious.

“You know he wouldn’t tell me.” he said, and Danny chuckled. They both knew this. “You knew Peter before this job?”

“Alright, Stiles let’s set something straight, something neither of us is.” he added and Stiles was not amused at all. “I’m not your source, I’m your security technician, I did you one favor. And only one.”

“So you won’t help me.” Stiles summed up.

“It’s not about helping, you can’t offer me anything I want, Stiles. I’m not helping without having any gain of from it.” Danny said almost apologetic. “Also, I can keep a few important clients, because I can also keep secrets.”

Stiles huffed and hung up without saying anything. He was mad, he was helpless. He had no other ideas how he could track Peter down. But then again, why does he want to track Peter down again? Does he want to see him? Or he just wants to know everything about him? But why again? Damn it, Stiles groaned, digging his hands into his hair. Damn it, he’s going to have an episode again, where he has no idea if it’s reality or dream. And this time Peter wasn’t here to stop him. Stiles decided to stay where he was and just wait until it passes.

It was a torturous few hours on the cold tiles of his bathroom.

\--

Actually, Stiles’ brain knew that it was better this way. Peter was dangerous. He was older and it was possible he was only just playing with him, because he was young and trapped in a house… But something still kept missing Peter in the strangest way. The nights he would wander around the corridors, knowing that Peter wasn’t there were the worst. Stiles was scared. He didn’t realize when he started to rely on Peter like this, to rely on his presence and knowing that everything will be alright if Peter was there. He also missed his touch, even if it was so little he got from the wolf. It was all so wrong and yet, Stiles missed Peter. He missed the wolf too much for words.

It was Erica who noticed Stiles wasn’t too well that day. It was the day of his lacrosse game, the first one he could play and not sit on the bench. Before they got into the car she put her hand on Stiles’ shoulder and squeezed it.

“Everything’s alright, Stiles?” she asked, eying him. Stiles sighed, forcing a tired smile. He couldn’t exactly tell her that he was most probably missing someone he shouldn’t have.

“I’m just nervous, it’s my first game.” and that too. He was really nervous. This time his father also said that he may be able to make it a cheer him on, but Stiles didn’t trust in that. He didn’t feel bad about it, he knew his father had far more important issues to attend and his lacrosse game wasn’t one of them.

“Well we’re always nervous at our first time, aren’t we?” Isaac added helpfully and Erica snorted at him.

“Maybe you, but I rock at first times.” Erica added. Isaac just looked at him slightly surprised, in union with Stiles.

“How many… first times have you..?” Stiles dared to ask, but Isaac punched his shoulder in a kind of warning.

“I don’t think we’re ready for that conversation.” Isaac hissed and Stiles discovered a slight red in his cheeks. Well.

“Oh, okay.” Stiles blinked watching Erica smirk.

“Either way, Stiles, you’ll be still the stupid lame idiot out there as you’re here. We won’t hate you more.” she chuckled, making Stiles smile a little.

“Good to know.”

“You’ll be great dude” Isaac offered as the car started.

For some strange reason it really calmed Stiles. It really was just a game, but that wasn’t what made him anxious. It was the lack of Peter’s presence in the last few weeks. He knew he was around, but not with him. It really shouldn’t affect him this much.

So when Stiles got out of the car he tried to focus entirely on lacrosse and Scott and trying not to be an utter disaster on the field, despite the sudden rain that caught them. Which may have been working, because despite coach was shouting how incompetent and slow he was he still kept him on the field. Which was good, Stiles had a game to concentrate on, even if he was soaking through his bones.

And then halftime came. And Scott was telling about something to Stiles, about Kira, again and Stiles wanted to ask if Scott could ask her out already, but he couldn’t get to his question. Because his father was walking up to the benches, surrounded by his guards: Boyd and… Peter.

It was so sudden and unexpected that Stiles froze in mid drinking. He was staring at Peter, barely believing he was really seeing him. But the wolf was there, walking behind his father, looking sharp in his suit and tie and perfect hair and jaw and chin and Stiles felt a strange heat in his chest.

“I’m sorry, son, for being late.” Mr. Stilinski smiled apologetically at Stiles and put his hand on his wet shoulder. Stiles stumbled a little, forcing himself to look away from Peter to his father.

“No, it’s uh, it’s okay I mean, you’ll probably see what was happening the first half in the second half, I mean- you know-“ Stiles stuttered a little.

“It’s alright son, I just want to see how you play and be proud of you either way.” Mr. Stilinski assured. “I may have a few words with your headmaster after this too.”

“Oh.” Stiles blinked. So that was the reason his father could make this. But he didn’t mind, he was actually happy for his father. And for Peter too. Even if he probably won’t be able to talk to him. It was fine too, just knowing that he was there. It was fine.

So Stiles thought, but if he was a catastrophe in the first half of the game, he was just a disaster in the second half. His focus was completely gone and the more he was trying to concentrate the less he could. It also seemed like the rain was making the field more slippery. In the end coach just called him from the field.

“Stilinski what the actual flying grandma’s nightcap of a performance was that!?” Coach shouted as Stiles jogged off the field to the benches.

“I don’t know coach—“ Stiles panted.

“Do you have performance issues, Stilinski?!”

“Well I wouldn’t know about that, right coach…?” he tried to joke, but judging by the expression of Finnstock he wasn’t impressed.

“Go and wash up and just calm down, will ya?!” coach shouted motioning over the lockers’ direction.

“Wha- right now?” Stiles blinked.

“Right now, Stilinski, have you gone deaf too!? It won’t help me if you drop dead in a panic attack and ruin this game for me! Go!”

“Oh well, thanks coach that-“

“JUST GO.” coach screamed and Stiles dashed away. He was actually glad he could get away from the stares and the crowd. Maybe coach has known him more than he though, because it things would have continued he may have ended up with an attack.

Stiles stumbled into the lockers, dropping his wet lacrosse gear on the way, planning to pick them up later. He just wanted a shower, he figured it would help. It should. It must. Anything so he could try and calm down and get back on his normal mindset. He dropped the rest of his clothes and had a quick shower. He was trying not to think about Peter, but all he could see was the man’s eyes on him even if he couldn’t see them amongst the audience. But the thought that he was there was enough. Before he knew it, he felt his hand brush against his thigh. Stiles wondered if it was better if he’d just go with it and touch himself. But then he heard a door of a locker shut close. He figured the embarrassment wouldn’t worth it so he quickly stopped the water and put a towel around his waist, not even drying off as he hurried back to his locker.

“Oh, god.” Stiles stumbled to a halt when he realized it wasn’t Scott who followed him. It wasn’t Scott at all.

It was Peter. The man was standing by his locker in a wet suit, with one hand on the closed door, but his blue eyes were fixed on Stiles’ chest. There was something in his pose, something tense and predatory that made the boy scared and excited the same time.

“H-how…” Stiles stuttered, though he seemed like he couldn’t actually form words anymore.

“Area security check.” Peter smirked, dropping his hand to his side as he turned to Stiles. The boy had no idea what that meant, but if it made Peter wonder into the locker rooms then to hell with it. Ever since he realized that he didn’t know anything about the guard, Stiles had a lot of questions. He imagined asking them from Peter the next time they meet. He imagined demanding the man to tell him, he imagined asking for his number too. But right in that moment, all Stiles could think about was to kiss him again. “Come here.” Peter whispered and Stiles went.

Stiles hurried to Peter with wet steps on the cold floor and as he reached them he slid his arms around his rain coated shoulders and leaned in to kiss him. The wolf welcomed him eagerly, pulling him closer. His lips were hot despite the cold weather outside, but Stiles knew that was something common with werewolves. Their body temperature was higher than humans and that’s why Peter always felt so hit under his fingers and on his lips.

“Look at you, you reek of need and desperation.” Peter teased as he kissed along his jaw. Stiles whimpered, hating that the wolf actually could smell how he _felt_ like.

“I missed you- ah!” Stiles gasped when Peter kissed into his neck, his stubble prickling his skin in the best way. His body arched and he wondered how he wasn’t fainting from how fast his blood rushed to his lower regions. There were no words on how turned on he was just by a few kisses and closeness of Peter. “Fuck me.” he breathed, tilting his head to whisper into Peter’s ear.

“Right here, Stiles? Right now?” Peter asked, though his voice was hoarse and his thigh was sliding between Stiles’ making him call for all the gods for help to keep his sanity.

“Yes, yes, yes, Peter, we won’t- I don’t know when we can and I—“ Stiles nodded, fisting his hands in Peter’s jacket.

“We don’t have much time.” Peter warned, but Stiles already shook his head. Wanting it quick and raw, he just wanted it so much it almost hurt. But Peter didn’t let him speak. He grabbed him and pulled him into coach’s office. Stiles felt like he was in a dream, for some reason, that this wasn’t happening, that this is just his mind making up something he really wanted. But as Peter approached him again after he locked the door and closed the shades, it felt real. Because Stiles was excited yes, but he was afraid and nervous too. Peter pulled him into another set of kisses by the back of his neck, though Stiles could barely concentrate because the wolf’s hand was already prying off his towel and grabbing his hardness.

“Oh god, oh my god…” Stiles panted into their kisses as Peter pushed him against the desk, his hand squeezing his balls. He tried to slide his fingers under the neckline of Peter’s shirt too, feeling more of his skin, but the wolf suddenly turned him around and pushed him down the desk. Stiles groaned from pain and pleasure as Peter quickly spread his thighs with his knees. “Peter—“ Stiles panted, looking over his shoulder just to see the man ripping open a packet of lube.

Peter’s fingers were wet and deep and confident as they prepared Stiles in quick thrusts. The boy winced in pain, when the man added more fingers, widening him and preparing him for something thicker. But he wanted this so bad, he wanted Peter to fuck him. His fingers were white on the desk’s faint brown surface as he was bearing himself. He was rock hard, despite the pain and the slight confusion.

After it felt like a too short time for Stiles Peter retrieved his fingers and the boy heard another packet being ripped. A condom? Stiles looked over his shoulder again, watching Peter already rolling it on his massive cock and Stiles had to swallow some drool. Peter was big and thick, and…

“Aa-h, ow!” Stiles moaned in pain as Peter thrust into him. Shit, Stiles was already wet and ready too, he felt himself leak too.

“Shhh, Stiles, it’s alright.” Peter soothed him, stroking his back with shaking fingers. The boy winced and closed his eyes so hard that tears were rolling down his nose. He panted hard from pleasure and pain, feeling the hardness of the desk a bit more than he wanted to. He tried not to open his eyes and see where they were and how Peter was fucking him like he was a whore on a desk.

“Peter…” Stiles called him in a shivering voice, as the man started taking him. He was fast, and deep and impatient. Just as how Stiles felt. “Peter, oh god, Peter… Peter…” the boy sobbed, trying to gulp in more air.

“What is it, baby? Hm? Is something wrong?” Peter asked hoarsely, leaning over Stiles back, kissing at his nape and the back of his shoulders. “You’re amazing, Stiles. So tight, and you’re taking me so well… you’re already close too, aren’t you? Even if I barely touched you. Oh, you’re so sensitive and young…” he whispered and Stiles felt his hand on his cock again.

“I wanna come- I wanna come on your cock, Peter, please, please…” Stiles moaned, moving his hips a little. Peter groaned from need as he said that and pushed in as deep as he could, stroking Stiles with wet fingers. The boy gasped and panted with open mouth as he laid there face down on the desk, with Peter’s cock buried in him, while the man was stroking him to reach his peak. Stiles thought he would die, but then his orgasm reached him and he jolted from the sudden wave of pleasure that washed over him. He could barely breathe, his body was shaking and even so when Peter started to move again. His cock was brushing over a spot which made Stiles feel like he was going to come again and he thought he will go mad.

Peter came with wet thrusts, buried inside Stiles deep and thick, breathing into his hair. His hands were leaving red marks all over Stiles’ hips as he was holding onto him for dear life.

And then, it was over. Stiles couldn’t actually move from where he was collapsed on the desk, but as Peter pulled out his knees almost gave up. He caught himself before he would fall on the floor, leaning heavily on the desk as he turned to Peter. He watched as the wolf took off his condom and cleaned up. Oh, so that’s why, Stiles thought. It was easier to hide it. It made something hurt inside his chest.

“You should clean up too.” Peter said gently as he tucked himself away and pulled up his zipper.

“Yeah, yeah I suppose…” Stiles swallowed, nodding. The wolf then stepped to him and kissed him again, softly and reassuring. For some stupid reason, Stiles felt like crying. He opened his mouth to tell Peter not to go, to just stay and hold him, but he knew they had no time for that.

“I’ll see you soon.” Peter muttered against his lips.

“How?” Stiles asked, trying not to sound like a whiny little boy. “I don’t know your number, I can’t ask Derek to put you with me, I… I know nothing about you, Peter.” so much for not whining.

Peter just smiled, and brushed Stiles’ cheek with the back of his knuckles.

“You’ll know what you must when the time is right.” he said.

“Bullshit, Peter, I fucking… I don’t…” Stiles shook his head weakly, hating the mysterious stranger crap Peter was pulling on him again. He felt too young, too naïve, too used for this. But Peter didn’t say anything just kissed him again quickly and moved. Smoothly and quietly like the damn predator he was. Before he knew it, Stiles was alone in the office and the only evidence that proved Peter or someone was with him that the door was open. “Don’t go…” Stiles sniffed, rubbing his eyes.

He cleaned up of course, and had two more showers, just so none of the werewolves would know what happened. He hoped it will do, otherwise he had no idea how to make the scent go away. It was hideous, he felt like someone who was used and he couldn’t shake off the feeling even long after they had left the school.

Stiles was quiet and reserved all the way, and thankfully Isaac left him alone after Erica told him to. They gave him his space and even his father noticed that something was up with him. They all thought it was the game and Stiles didn’t want to enlighten them. He went to his room and buried himself under his covers in his bed. Even when Scott called him later he didn’t tell him anything of Peter and what happened.

\--

“I’m actually used to you being mopey all the time, but this is something new.” Lydia commented as she was sitting in one of Stiles’ chairs, scribbling down his answers for a magazine interview.

“Good thing I can entertain.” Stiles muttered from under the covers still.

“Stiles, I didn’t mean it like that.” she sighed, writing that Stiles’ favorite movie of all time is Mad Max. “I’m just worried, like everyone else. Something’s up and it’s not the game, definitely not a shitty lacrosse game.”

“Alright, it’s not the game.” he agreed without further fight. Lydia snapped her iPad on her knee, looking at Stiles annoyed.

“I’m going to beat it out of you if you won’t tell me.” she challenged and he snorted. “I’ll pay someone to beat it out of you.” though Stiles frowned, peeking out behind his covers at her, because she was capable of doing that. She didn’t say anything. “Did you at least tell it to anyone? To Scott?” she asked.

“No.” Stiles answered with a sigh.

“Then how should we help you?” she asked spreading her arms. Stiles had a lot of answers to that question but none was acceptable. He wanted to talk to Peter and no one else about this. “Stiles?”

“I’ll handle it.” he answered at last.

“Like you handled it the past week?” she asked, raising her eyebrow at him.

“It’s a slow process.” Stiles tried, leaning his head back on the bed.

“You know, I really hope you’ll be alright, Stiles. I’m worried about you.” Lydia started and walked to sit on Stiles’ bed. “We all are.”

Stiles wondered if Peter also was worried about him, but he had his doubts about it. Somehow, he figured the wolf may be concerned, but worried? Not really. He was just like Derek, didn’t really care about him.

“Derek says you smell like heartbreak.” Lydia said quietly and Stiles perked up. He sat up glaring at Lydia, though he’d rather glare at Derek.

“Heartbreak, are you serious?” Stiles asked snorting. Lydia sighed, just looking at him, wondering. “It’s not- it’s not heartbreak.” the boy frowned, though he almost asked that instead of stating it. Was it heartbreak?

“Stiles, if it’s really about love then maybe I can help you a little.”

“Yes, but—“ Stiles started before Lydia could say more. “I don’t- I don’t want to talk about it here. I don’t want these vultures to listen. They never let me live down the porn either, I don’t want them to joke about this too.” he said, though he had other reasons to keep silent about it. It was Peter they were talking about after all.

“Ice cream date it is. Now, put some pants on and let’s go.” Lydia pat Stiles’ thigh and stood up to let the boy dress in peace.

Lydia also got her own car and absolutely refused any kind of escort when Boyd insisted they need it. She assured they will just get ice cream and come back and if anything happens it’s her responsibility. Stiles just stared in awe how Lydia could get them free in just a few words and stern looks. They got an hour for themselves and Boyd warned that they will start an alarm if Stiles is not back in that time. Lydia promised she will bring him back soon.

“So start talking. We haven’t got much time.” Lydia said as she drove her car out the gates. Stiles sighed, watching the house disappearing in a corner.

“I slept with someone.” he started, and she just motioned him to go on. “No, no that’s it, that’s… that’s it.” Stiles said.

“Alright, so you slept with someone, that’s good. Good for you, score. Or whatever you boys say when you get some.” Lydia said, Stiles bit in his lower lip. “It wasn’t good? They forced you?” she frowned, seeing that it was more serious.

“No, no- not really.” Stiles muttered.

“Stiles…?”

“I wanted it too, I really wanted it. It’s just…” he sighed, shrugging and spreading his arms. He was thinking a lot about what was the problem. Other than he wanted Peter to stay, to hold him; he wanted it not to happen in a damn office in the last few minutes of lacrosse game.

“Was it your first time?” Lydia asked, Stiles shook his head. “I mean with them…?”

“Him. And… yes, it was our first time.” he said quietly, thinking about it. He heard Lydia chuckle softly from next to him. “What…?”

“It really is heartbreak then.” Lydia smiled. “You feel like you’ve been used, like someone who would get money for it. You feel empty, yet still a bit overwhelmed. And they act like you were just another strike on their wall.”

Stiles didn’t say anything. It was exactly how he felt with Peter.

“Why do I feel like this?” he asked in a whisper. Lydia looked at him for a moment, sympathetic and Stiles wondered that who she had felt the same that she knows the experience so well.

“Because it mattered, Stiles. Because you… because you’re most probably in love with the guy and wanted more than just a good time. ” she said. Stiles frowned at her, and tried to pretend that he has no idea what she was talking about… But somehow her words made sense. Too much sense. The boy didn’t know it with his head, but with his heart. And it wasn’t good news. To be in love with Peter? That was dangerous. He wished it would be just a whim, just another revolution he set for the world, but this time it seemed it all had collapsed on him. Stiles sighed, leaning back in his seat.

“Will you meet again?” Lydia asked quietly. Stiles shrugged. He was sure they will, though, this time he wanted to make sure of that. “Good.” she smirked. “Oh, look we’re here.”

As Lydia asked for raspberry vanilla dream and Stiles for dark chocolate he realized that something has been lifted from his shoulders. The talk with Lydia was really helping him and he made sure to thank it to her one day. One day when he wasn’t an utter embarrassment as he was now. On their way back, Stiles wanted to ask that how Lydia was so expert. And if it was because of Jackson, but he didn’t. He knew how he would have felt if someone were to ask him if he was like this because of Peter, so he just let it hang between them.

Knowing what he felt and why he felt it actually helped Stiles in getting out of bed and go back to his routine. He was getting more active in his public life too, went on interviews and sometimes took Danny with him, when the guy decided he wanted to go too. And Stiles started to like to go with Danny, because they looked good next to each other damn it, and when the press started to wonder if they were going out, he almost wanted to say yes, but Danny said he doesn’t want that and that his boyfriends will be jealous. So far for that plan.

Sometimes Stiles wanted to ask Danny again for Peter’s number, but he decided it would just make it all worse. Not having any means to contact Peter at least stopped him to do stupid things. Probably. Maybe. Stiles liked to think…

\--

Peter couldn’t see Stiles ever since Derek has changed his schedule, ever since he was acting as Mr. Stilinski’s personal bodyguard. Derek made sure he was put the furthest away from Stiles and he wasn’t allowed in the house after his shift ended. If he had to stay during the night, Derek ordered him not to leave his post. Sometimes during this time he could see Stiles wander the halls.

Just like at a night like this Peter was sitting in the monitor room with Isaac, bored out of his mind. He was watching the monitor showing Stiles’ room, the boy typing something on his laptop by his desk.

Peter sighed, moving to get up from his chair.

“Where are you going?” Isaac asked him, alarmed and Peter could still smell he faint scent of fear when the boy raised his blue eyes at him. Peter was aware that Derek told his betas to keep an eye on him, but this was just ridiculous. None of them would be able to stop him if he would seriously go out his way to get what he wanted.

“To air my head, puppy.” Peter raised an eyebrow, staring Isaac down for a moment to make him sure not to ask him to stay or follow him. “Will be back in five.” the wolf muttered.

Peter left the room and went on his usual patrol through the house. Or, it wasn’t in his schedule, his patrol now, but he needed air. He needed… something. He wouldn’t have thought that the changes would affect him this much. But ever since that mistake during Stiles’ lacrosse game he didn’t feel like himself.

That was a mistake, Peter thought. He remembered the boy’s desperate scent, the pain he felt… It shouldn’t have been like that. Peter should have resisted the temptation of the too eager and too stupid boy in his arms. But he gave in to his wolf to take the boy and it hurt him. Peter took a deep breath as he was passing the kitchen, still smelling Stiles’ there. He smelled like heartbreak, still, even if he seemed to get better.

The wolf caught himself wondering what he wanted more: to Stiles to get better and go on, or just to mourn his absence so it would be clear that he was missing Peter.

“How unprofessional.” Peter muttered to himself. It was indeed unprofessional, thinking about a boy, thinking about taking him in a different way he usually took people and being this affected by him. His wolf never wanted to have anyone like this and Peter never let it run this free for anyone. It was frightening, but it was no way back now.

Peter just wished he could tell this to Stiles, or at least explain him that he didn’t want to just leave him back there, in a cold room, alone and used. It was the exact opposite he wanted to do…


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not betaed.

 

 

Stiles was typing away on his keyboard on his latest research. He was trying to find something on Peter, but when it ended up unfruitful, he moved on to other subjects. This time he had the nerve to look Lydia up. He wanted to know how and when she could have met with Jackson and how long so she would develop something called ‘love’ for that jerk. It didn’t really interest Stiles much, but research was like a hobby of him. It took his mind off things. It wasn’t his fault that he was researching people and not historical facts or something along those lines.

He skipped over the list he had on the important points he wanted to get dates and information on, when he heard a noise from his window. He tensed and turned his head to check who or what it was. The window then slowly slid open and Scott’s head appeared, looking around.

“Dude!” Stiles gasped. “You scared the crap out of me!” he groaned shutting down his browser, knowing Scott wasn’t too comfortable with the deep web.

“Yeah, sorry, dude. Next time I’ll make all the noise when I sneak up to your window, okay?” Scott joked as he opened the window more and got into the room. He seemed nervous, he was sweating and his eyes were all over the room. Which was of course understandable, due to the fact that shot first, ask later policy of the Hales was still intact.

“Okay fine, whatever.” Stiles chuckled, and stood up to walk to Scott. “So what-“ he started, but then he heard something he didn’t in a long while. Not in live. Not like this and not this close. A gunshot. So close it made his ears ring after. It was small caliber, still deadly if shot from this distance into the head.

Stiles watched Scott falling lifeless by his feet, with a bleeding, ugly wound on his temple.

Scott was shot in the head.

It was a perfect shot, Stiles could tell by staring at the wound and feeling his limbs go cold. Something close to insanity making him dizzy at the scene.

“Scott..?” he asked, his voice sounded too weak for his liking.

“Get away from it.” someone shouted and Stiles felt his arm being grabbed. And that’s when he started to scream.

“Scott!” he shouted as someone shook him hard and forced him look up. It was Peter. And he was holding a gun in his other hand.

Stiles’ brain worked too fast for his liking. Peter was the one shooting Scott.

The same time Peter realized that Stiles put two and two together he shook him again.

“Look at him, Stiles, that’s not Scott. Just look at him!” the wolf urged, motioning his gun at Scott again. But Stiles seen nothing. It was still Scott bleeding and dead by his feet. “Just look at him once and we’ll go. You’re not safe here.”

“Wait no, I—“ Stiles tried a bit confused, looking around in the room as if searching for a kind of answer or something, or just to know if this was a dream or what was actually happening. It was scary and confusing and he wanted to just _know_.

But Peter didn’t give him time to process it all and ask more questions, he grabbed his arm tighter and guided him toward the door.

“Wait, wait wait!” Stiles screamed, pulling at Peter’s grip, but the wolf didn’t loosen it. “What’s happening what’s going on!? What are you doing?!” he asked, but Peter didn’t seem like he wanted to answer as he was listening to something ahead of them on the corridor as they were heading toward the back entrance.

Stiles felt dizzy and cold and trembling from anger, sadness confusion, because it seemed less like a dream the more Peter’s grip hurt. He opened his mouth to shout at him again, but that moment someone turned the corner ahead of them.

It was Peter.

Stiles choked on his breath the moment his brain couldn’t exactly process what was happening. Peter was the one shooting Scott and he was holding him right now. So how could he also be across from them, pointing a gun?

“Peter…?” Stiles stuttered, but the Peter holding him pulled him behind him.

“Oh please, I’m much more handsome.” the first Peter snorted, raising his gun at the other.

“Don’t listen to him, Mr. Stilinski!” the second Peter shouted, raising his gun too. “There are shapeshifters in the house and they—“ he said, but he was interrupted by a bullet. Right between his eyes. First Peter shot him too. Stiles didn’t even shout or scream or gasp, he was just watching Peter fall the same way Scott did, feeling the same numbness he felt before.

He barely realized that first Peter was still dragging him across the house, tuning corners carefully and pointing a gun. And he would shoot anyone that would cross them, Stiles realized.

“Stop, stop…!” Stiles tried again. “Let me go!” he yanked his arm with newfound strength, which he knew his last one. “How do I know it’s you, how do I know you’re not here to kidnap me and kill my father?!”

That made this Peter look at him finally and stop for a second. Stiles watched him swallow, thinking.

“In the Jungle, I told you to take revenge for your mother.” he said calmly. “But if you want something more recent. I quite enjoyed our time together in your coach’s office. Will you come with me in silence now, _Stiles_?” he asked, his hand sliding lower to take the boy’s wrist.

Stiles felt faint as he was watching Peter and trying to decide if he believes him. But no one else knew about these things.

And the other Peter called him Mr. Stilinski…

The moment Stiles nodded, the wolf pulled him along the corridors to the back entrance. Peter guided him along the garden, to the car that parked there for emergencies. And they hurried past it. Stiles frowned, as they turned the street, hurrying down the sidewalk so quiet Stiles thought they are being ghosts. Maybe they were. Maybe this wasn’t real at all.

“Stiles, Stiles, come on.” he heard Peter’s voice suddenly and felt his touch on his cheek. Stiles focused his sight at the face of the wolf. “Don’t freak out on me now, not now.” he said, shaking him softly. Stiles frowned, feeling the familiar feeling of losing himself in a flow of thoughts, feelings, almost like being under influence, but this was just his own mind trying to prevent him to lose it completely. And failing.

“I need…” Stiles tried to say, but he couldn’t speak anymore. He needed medicine, he needed alcohol, something.

“I know, but you need to get a grip on yourself, Stiles. Just a little more.” Peter whispered, but Stiles shook his head. He was going to faint and he won’t be able to handle this, not this. Then he felt a sharp pain on his wrist. It was like burning and a cutting at the same time and Stiles gasped in pain. His eyes were filled with tears, overflowing and rolling down his pale cheeks.

His sight was focused again, his senses were working properly, letting him know where they were. On a street corner not far from their mansion, in the dark without any streetlamp betraying them. And Peter’s fangs were buried deep into his skin. His eyes were glowing blue in the strange night, while his lips got tainted by Stiles’ blood, dripping on the sidewalk.

Stiles felt his breath finally reaching his lungs, his heartbeat starting again to make him lose more blood from the bite. But he was himself. For a while.

“Good.” Peter muttered quietly retrieving his fangs and took a handkerchief from his pocket to clean the blood and tie the wound. “Let’s go.” he said, looking at Stiles.

Stiles just nodded, holding Peter’s hand when the man took it and let him guide him away, away, away from the house. His mind was blank, too blank. But at least he was functioning and the pain was keeping him grounded.

“Where are the others?” Stiles’ first question was when Peter led them to a car parking in a paid parking lot. It was a black Camaro, but looked like it was parking in that lot for months now.

“Probably at work.” Peter answered, taking the keys and opening the door.

“Where’s- where dad, where’s my father?” Stiles asked, rubbing the cloth over his bite. Peter sent him a look Stiles couldn’t really intercept.

“In good hands.” the wolf answered at last.

“I need to call him.” the boy said. “I need to, do… something, I—“ he stuttered, looking around the parking lot.

“You need to get into the car.” Peter offered, opening the door to the passenger’s seat. Stiles stared at him, and then at the car.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“I’ll answer once we’re on our way, Stiles, now, get in the car.” the wolf said, motioning toward the seat. Stiles bit his lower lip and did as Peter said.

As they were seated Peter drove them out of the parking lot and they were on their way in the night.

Stiles watched the nightlights pass by as Peter was driving them on small streets, small roads, sneaking away from the city toward the unknown. There was no noise, no music on the radio, just the shooting sound of the car’s too quiet engine as the world was running past them. Stiles started to shiver from cold, from shock, from exhaustion, but he didn’t dare to sleep.

“Where are we going?” he asked again, putting his arms around himself, trying to warm up, but even his fingers were cold.

“I’m taking you to a safe place, as protocol.” Peter said. “Today’s attack was serious. They must have planned it for months.” he commented as he reached to turn on the heat.

“Oh my god, I really… really want to talk to my dad, Peter, please…” Stiles trembled. “Is he okay, did you see him? Wait, wait, weren’t you… weren’t you supposed to be with him, I mean weren’t you?”

“Stiles.” Peter started, stopping the boy’s rambling. “I promise we will contact Derek once we’re safe and you’ll know everything. Will that be alright?” he asked.

Stiles licked is dry lips, and closing his eyes. He hoped they won’t be late, that everything will be alright. Derek and his team was capable, he knew it firsthand. He had to trust them, he had to trust Peter this time. It was a bit scary how easy it was, trusting a guy he had not known at all. Not even after research.

“Can I freak out now?” he asked, when he felt his mind and body warning him again.

“Yes.” Peter’s voice was too soft. “Yes, you can.” Stiles felt the tears come as he pressed down on his wound, making it bleed again.  He felt his breath coming short, his mind blanking out again. And then the scream was bubbling up straight from his stomach, deep primal screaming, like the fallen heroes of old myths. His best friend was killed, he had seen Peter getting shot in the head and bleed and his father was nowhere to be found. He was alone with Peter, barely escaping an attack which didn’t feel like an attack.

Stiles screamed and yelled and shouted everything that his buzzed mind could come up with. When his throat was raw and no words came anymore, he started sobbing and slowly all his energy left him. And in the end, his mind let him have a moment of peace and he fell asleep.

He woke to an old door being opened with a loud, creaking sound. It was cold and Stiles’ throat felt raw from screaming. But Peter’s scent was in his nose and he felt the wolf’s body against him as he carried him. Inside a house, maybe. Up some stairs and then, another door was opened.

“Peter…” Stiles forced himself to stay awake as the man lowered him on a bed. “Peter, you promised we’ll contact the others, I need to know.”

“Are you sure?” Peter asked, standing by bed. Stiles struggled to sit up and nodded.

“I- I want to know…” he said and Peter took his phone with a sigh. He stared at it for a moment, then turned it off. “Wait, wait wait, what are you doing!?” Stiles gasped.

“They may have bugged it, I need other ways to contact Derek.” Peter retorted, raising an eyebrow. “There is a phone in the living room.” he muttered frowning.

“And is it working!?” Stiles asked, scrambling on his feet, and grabbing at Peter when his knees didn’t support his idea.

“Careful, princess.” Peter chuckled and then Stiles pushed him away to go. He found himself on a long corridor with a few rooms on it. The living room was probably downstairs, so he took his way there with Peter closely following him. Stiles quickly took in the place, the house. It wasn’t an old house, it was like those houses that weren’t exactly real, like from a movie set. It was too artificial. It felt extremely cold.

“What’s this place?” Stiles asked quietly.

“A place, I suppose.” Peter sighed, brushing his finger over the railing of the stars as he took the last few steps.

“Your home?” the boy frowned and the wolf chuckled bitterly.

“It was. Well, the one before this.” he answered, looking at Stiles. “It burned down eight years ago.” he said and the boy remembered. The fire that killed all the Hales.

This was Peter’s and Derek’s home.

“I didn’t know it was rebuilt.” the boy frowned, not pretending he didn’t know anything about the fire, there was no point. He knew Peter probably was aware that he did his research on them anyway.

Peter smiled a little, looking around with narrowed eyes. It wasn’t exactly pride that emitted from him, but almost disgust.

“I though making it the exact same as it was before would make it better.” he mused quietly. “But it just made it worse. This is a disgrace.” he whispered and Stiles wasn’t sure it was intended entirely for him. “The phone’s on that wall.” he pointed then.

Stiles blinked suddenly at the fast change in Peter’s tone. But he hurried to the phone and Peter already recited him a number. Stiles hoped it was Derek’s or Boyd’s.

“Who’s this?” it was Derek’s voice.

“Uh, yes, yes, Derek, it’s me, it’s Stiles.” Stiles said, relieved.

“How should I know it’s really you? I met at least three of you so far.” the wolf said in a tense voice. Stiles felt something sharp crawl up his throat.

“I… I don’t know, I…” he swallowed, looking at Peter as if that would give him ideas. “When- when those reporters were over and I had to give them a house tour and you happened to pass by I told you you’re Miguel, our gardener and that you like to pretend you’re a bodyguard, because you couldn’t tell your mother you are a gardener and we let you have your dream. Do you remember that?”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a while.

“Isaac and Erica never let me hear the end of it.” Derek sighed. “And just to prove it’s really me… the cabbage surprise. That was me.”

“That was you?!” Stiles gasped. “I thought it was Isaac it was so masterfully done…”

“Where are you now?” Derek interrupted.

“In…” Stiles started, but he thought better. “At your place. Your house.” he answered, looking at Peter again.

Derek didn’t answer for a moment, and Stiles could almost see his tense expression. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to be there? Derek didn’t ask anything or said anything, just sighed in the end.

“Stiles, I have bad news.” he started then and Stiles remembered where they were. Peter was walking closer to him, probably listening in too. “Your father, he was shot.”

And again, the numbness, the screams in his mind started to wake again.

“Wh-what…?” Stiles asked, his voice trembling and barely escaping his tight throat. “Is… is he…”

“He’s in the hospital.” Derek said.

“Will he be okay, is he… what happened?!” Stiles demanded, the phone trembling along his fingers.

“There was an opening, I should have been more careful, I shouldn’t have… anyway, stay where you are right now, I’ll contact you when the situation is safe.”

“No, Derek, I need to see my dad!” Stiles shouted.

“You will, Stiles, but not now. It’s for your own and his safety, this attack was really serous we need to handle it carefully. And you’re… you’re most probably safe there.” Derek sighed. “As I make everything safe again you can come back.”

“Derek…!” Stiles tried, but he knew it’s useless. He was miles and miles away from the city, from his dying father, from his guards, from everything. He couldn’t do anything, he didn’t even have clothes on him.

“Ask Peter about your father. I gotta go now, I’m glad you’re safe.” Derek said and hung up.

“What?” Stiles asked into the dead line as Peter chuckled softly next to him. “What did he mean?!” the boy snapped at Peter slamming the phone back on its holder. “What about my father?! What do you know!?” he demanded.

Peter just smirked at him bitterly, then looked at the phone.

“Sometimes I think Derek is stupid and then he proves me wrong.” he remarks.

“Cut the crap and fucking answer me!” Stiles screamed, pushing the man. Peter clicked his tongue and faced Stiles, straightening his back as if he was ready to attack.

“Derek just wanted me to admit that I was one that was supposed to guard your father tonight.” Peter said.

“You fucking what?!” Stiles shouted, finally feeling something competent other than desperation and fear: rage. It was good, he could use that, it gave him purpose and the sensation of power. “You! Fucking! What!” he screamed again and went against Peter. He pushed the wolf, making him stumble a little, despite he went against him with all his strength. “What the fuck were you doing instead?! It’s your fucking job, you were supposed to be there, you were fucking hired to fucking protect him, you son of a bitch!” Stiles screamed, aiming at Peter with his fists, pushing him and trying to hit him too, trying to take out all the rage and frustration he felt.

“I was checking on you.” Peter snorted, grabbing Stiles’ wrists. “I didn’t trust anyone else to do it.”

“That’s not a fucking excuse, he’s the important one, he is the one being targeted you dick, without him the whole movement is going to go shit!” Stiles screamed trashing around as Peter held his wrists.

“He’s not important to me.” Peter said. “You are.”

“Stop that, don’t say that! You still abandoned your post, for someone unimportant, it’s not how security work, it’s not how a bodyguard works!” Stiles yanked his arms, shaking his head. His rage was leaving him along with his energy again. “He could die because of you, he could die!”

“He’s not going to die and neither are you.” Peter insisted, pulling Stiles closer. “And you’re not unimportant for me. Maybe you’re not a loud preacher for equal right, but that doesn’t mean you’re not important. For me, you are.”

Stiles hicked, feeling Peter’s body against his. It warmed him up, making him feel safe and calmer. Before he knew it he was melting into the wolf’s embrace.

“You’re safe, Stiles. Your father is also safe in the hospital.” Peter whispered, and it was like a caress. His hand was stroking Stiles’ back slowly. “Go back to bed and rest, I’ll prepare something to eat when you’re better. How does that sound?”

“I…” Stiles took a shaking breath and weakly pushed away from Peter, despite all he wanted to just cling to him. “I hope you fucking choke on it…” he hissed and turned to go back to the room he was coming from. He needed to get a grip, to calm down, to sort out what happened. The talk with Derek, what Peter did… and what he said. It confused him to no end.

Stiles slammed the door the hardest he could, walking to the bed. He laid down, waiting for sleep to claim him, but his mind was too busy. He was seeing his father being shot, he saw all that blood and redness. Then he thought about what if Peter wouldn’t come for him. That Scott… that thing that looked like Scott would have hurt him? Probably, but Stiles didn’t see a weapon on him, but he didn’t really pay attention to him much. He noticed Scott was nervous, but nothing else.

Stiles felt sick when he replayed the scene in his mind as Scott was falling on the floor, bleeding and dead. He was definitely dead, Stiles knew that shot was fatal. He shivered, groaning, burying his face into the stuffy smelling pillow.

This whole house was like a cemetery, he thought. Dark and moody and cold. There were memories of dead people here, it was like those overly decorated gravestones that looked more ugly than beautiful. Stiles felt his breath come short again and he wasn’t sure from what exactly; fear? Exhaustion? Anger?

He wanted distraction, he needed distraction. He needed to drink, or take pill, anything so his mind wouldn’t buzz and swirl and kill him. It was like torture, thinking too many things, too vividly and too overwhelming.

Stiles had no idea how long he was trying to sleep, but he knew that the sun was already coming up. It was cold, even with the blanket thrown over him, he felt colder than ever. And it was too silent. He couldn’t hear Peter.

And that thought was the one that made Stiles finally move from the bed. Maybe Peter left? But this was a huge place, it is possible he wouldn’t hear him. Stiles felt his limbs stiff and he wondered just how long he was laying there trapped in his mind. He opened the door, looking out on the corridor in the dim morning light.

“Peter…?” Stiles whispered quietly and listened. Nothing. He walked out looking around and trying the rooms on the corridor. Nothing. “Peter!” he tried a little louder, and went to open the last room, just to have it open in front of him.

Peter stepped in front of him, dressed casually. Stiles stumbled to a halt.

“So you woke up?” Peter asked quietly, crossing his arms. The boy just looked at him, taking him in for a while. It was the first time he’d seen him in anything other than a suit.

“I still hate you.” he said at last in a hoarse voice.

“I can tell.” Peter nodded.

“But I…” Stiles started, his throat going tight. “I feel like I’m going crazy, Peter.”

“It’s too silent is it?” the wolf asked, leaning against the doorframe. “Too cold. It may not be the best environment for you after what happened. But I can’t bring you back.” he said when Stiles looked at him with a question in his eyes.

“Then… then can I…?” Stiles asked, looking over the man’s shoulder into the room. He got nervous, because just a few hours ago he was screaming at Peter, called him everything he could and he just told him he hates him. But now he still wanted to stay with him. Maybe not with Peter especially, but with someone, just to not feel alone.

“Only with one condition.” Peter smirked. Stiles felt his stomach drop, but he nodded. “Come here.” the wolf said softly, reaching out to cup Stiles’ cheek. And Stiles went. He leaned in and welcomed Peter’s kiss on his lips. It felt familiar and safe, neither of those things he should have felt. But he kissed back anyway, his hand coming up, clutching Peter’s shirt.

“I shouldn’t be doing this…” Stiles breathed, when Peter pulled away a little.

“Because you’re angry with me?” Peter asked and the boy shook his head.

“Because you’re not a bodyguard. You’re no one. You died in a fire and yet you’re still here. You don’t exist.” Stiles muttered, eying something on Peter’s neck instead of looking into his eyes.

“So you don’t want distraction, Stiles?” the wolf asked.

“I do, god help me, I—“ he swallowed and Peter didn’t hesitate to kiss him again and pull him into the room. Stiles spotted a laptop on the nightstand, but as Peter lead him to the bed he closed the laptop off.

“You have a…?” Stiles started, but Peter chuckled softly, stroking his arms.

“I have something better, let me warm you up.” he started, leaning in for another soft kiss. Stiles felt his eyes flutter shut under the attention and the next thing he knew that he was laying down on the bed. It was warm, as if Peter was also lying on it just a few minutes earlier.

“Besides the sour scent of hate, you do smell sweet too.” Peter remarked, sliding his hands under Stiles’ shirt to pull it over his head.

“Sweet? What does that mean?” the boy asked quietly, giving a soft moan when Peter went to kiss into the base of his neck. He licked and nibbled at the sensitive skin, making it red and even more sensitive. It really did warm Stiles up. He shivered a little and went to tug on Peter’s shirt too.

“It means, that I like you.” Peter smiled into Stiles’ neck kissing lower on his body, before he let the boy pull his shirt off too. Stiles looked at the wolf in the light of the dim light that came from the windows and felt himself blush. He was well built, with skin that will haunt Stiles’ dreams and he wanted to put his tongue all over it to taste it.

“That’s so bullshit.” Stiles sighed, arching as Peter went to lick at his collarbone.

“Think what you want, but that’s how it is, Stiles.” the wolf chuckled, kissing lower and lower on the boy’s body. Stiles shivered when he felt a tongue tease at his navel. Who knew that he was sensitive there? “We have time now, so much time, Stiles. For all the things I want to do to you.” Peter breathed against his lower belly, fingers hooking into his sweatpants to pull them lower.

Stiles gave a groan, tilting his head to look at Peter who was reaching between his legs.

“What… what do you want to do to me?” he asked quietly. The wolf smirked, looking up as he took Stiles’ member in his hand squeezing it.

“I want to _have_ you, Stiles. Not just to fuck you, like I did back there, during the game. No, Stiles I want to have you all.”

“Peter…” the boy frowned, and opened his mouth to ask what exactly Peter meant, but then the wolf decided to shut him up. He parted his lips and moved in to give a hard, wet lick to Stiles’ cock. And the boy moaned loudly, parting his legs so Peter will have all the space for his little act. “Oh god…” Stiles panted.

“Yes, Stiles, I will make it good for you. It won’t hurt at all, it will be perfect.” Peter whispered, stroking slowly and reaching over the nightstand too.

Stiles nodded, closing his eyes when he got a moment of breath. This really was the best distraction, he wondered when he felt Peter parting his legs more. Then his wet finger was brushing against his entrance. Stiles shivered a little nervous. The last time it hurt and he was sure it will hurt this time too. But anything was better now than to stay in his room alone, caged in his mind.

“I’ll make it good, Stiles, I promise.” Peter muttered, leaning in and licking at his hardening member. “It won’t hurt.” he whispered and Stiles gave a low groan. He wasn’t sure, but he still trust Peter in this. Strange.

Peter indeed took his time. He kept kissing and licking at Stiles’ cock, while his finger was slowly preparing him with slow, deep thrusts. And then he added two fingers and hooked them, which Stiles wasn’t prepared for. He jumped from the sudden pleasure that washed over his body. A throaty moan was the only sign for Peter to do it again. And again.

“It’s good?” the wolf asked, his voice strained. Stiles opened his eyes, not sure when he actually closed them.

“Y-yeah, yeah…” he panted.

“Do you want more?” Peter asked, his lips brushing against the wet head of Stiles’ cock.

“I do, I do…” Stiles begged.

“Do you want to come on my fingers alone?” the wolf challenged, brushing against that sweet, sweet spot and Stiles flexed his toes at the sensation. He just nodded, reaching out to touch himself, but Peter bat away his hands.

“No hands, just my fingers.” he said and Stiles mewled, but instead he went to grab on the sheets. He will die here, he was sure, he will die and that will be when he sees heaven, because this was too good, it must have been Hell. And Peter was the devil itself.

And Peter proved him right, because there was no way he could do that with only fingers. Sometimes with a tongue. Stiles was becoming a mess on Peter’s fingers, barely noticing when he added a third one. He was fucking him slow, and clever and brushing at all the right spots Stiles didn’t know he had. His cock was rock hard, straining against his stomach and leaking.

Stiles whined in pleasure, his hand coming up to brush against his own thigh, but not his cock.

“Peter, Peter please…” he whispered, shivering when Peter made him aware how magical his fingers are again.

“Do you want to come?” the wolf asked with a strangely growling voice. And Stiles loved it. He moaned, biting in his lips and nodding. “Alright.” Peter agreed, but before Stiles could take himself, the man leaned over and slipped him past his lips. Stiles gasped, moaning and grabbing onto Peter’s hair for some kind of anchoring. It was too much, with Peter’s fingers in him and his tongue lapping at his sensitive head.

“Ahh, god!” Stiles moaned, arching his back to take more and more as if Peter wouldn’t have given him everything before. He was generous and he sucked him down deep and wet and Stiles came down his throat without a warning. He just couldn’t form words, only moans and gasps and his trembling fingers could only grab Peter’s hair. Stiles thought he will going to come undone, but as Peter popped him out of his mouth with a wet, obscene sound, he realized he already was.

“Thank you for the meal.” Peter chuckled, moving up to kiss at the corner of Stiles’ mouth. The boy turned his head to kiss at his lips, which still had his taste on them.

“Don’t be creepy…” Stiles muttered without any edge in his voice. He slid his arms around Peter’s neck, pulling him closer to kiss him again and again, until he was satisfied.

“I told you I’ll make it good.” Peter smiled, pulling away a little, and settling between Stiles’ legs, his hardness pressing against the boy’s inner thigh. He was hot and heavy and overwhelming, and Stiles still pulled him closer. “And you look much better, with all that pink in your cheeks.” Peter smirked and Stiles looked away for a second, feeling himself blush even more. Peter just chuckled softly and kissed into the skin he got offered by the movement and Stiles shivered. Peter tasted him, then pressed his nose against his sweaty skin, breathing him in. His hips rocked gently against Stiles, his cock brushing against him.

“Do you want me to…” Stiles started quietly, hands sliding down on the back of Peter, feeling the muscles there and the skin he oh so much liked.

“I’ll wait until you’re ready.” Peter whispered into his neck. “And then I’ll take you, Stiles.” he smirked. The boy shivered. Yes, he could go along with that plan. He sighed, pulling Peter tightly to himself, listening to his breathing and feeling his warmth on his skin. This was already going much better than their first time.

“Can this be our first time?” Stiles asked in a whisper, turning his head to nuzzle at Peter hair. The man then moved, to look into his face with slight confusion.

“What do you mean?” he asked quietly. Stiles felt a slight skip in his heartbeat from embarrassment. He thought about their firs time, basically a first fuck which was raw, fast and good, but the aftermath was making him miserable.

“I just… think it’s better.” Stiles said, licking his lips. Peter watched him a little, then his lips pulled into a smile and Stiles wanted to look away, but he couldn’t.

“I didn’t want to leave you there, you know.” the wolf started. “I wanted to stay, or rather… I wanted to take you away and hold you and take you again, and again.” he spoke and Stiles blushed. “But I will do that now, we’ll have all the time in the world now. Derek will call if he’s dropping by, we’ll have time to do this. No cameras, no microphones.”

Stiles swallowed, nodding. He felt something heavy just drop from his chest. He still wasn’t sure in Peter, but at least it showed that the man was feeling something for him. At least that…

“And after that?” Stiles asked quietly.

“Do you really want to think about that now?” Peter asked, hips moving slowly. The boy let out a soft breath.

“No.” he admitted. “I’d rather…” he started and moved to roll them around. “I’d rather think about your dick in me.” Stiles whispered and moved to pull off Peter’s pants. He dragged it off of him quickly and straddled his hips. “It’s still so big.” Stiles muttered.

“Did it scare you the first time?” Peter teases and jumps as Stiles grabs him.

“It’s not _that_ big.” the boy snorted, but Peter couldn’t retort as Stiles was stroking him with a tight fist. “I want it again anyway, but my way…” he spoke and took the lube from the nightstand. “Are you always this prepared?” Stiles asked as he poured some on his fingers.

“I’m a gentleman, I have to be.” Peter answered, watching Stiles amused. His hand came up to stoke his thigh fondly. “I wouldn’t ever want to miss an opportunity to take you.” he added quietly and Stiles felt a small rush in his chest. Peter should stop saying these things, otherwise he will fall for him more. For a man who doesn’t even exist.

Stiles licked his lips as he coated Peter and raised himself on his knees.

“Oh, that’s beautiful.” the wolf breathed, his hands finding their way on Stiles’ thighs. “Look at you, Stiles.”

“No, don’t… don’t…” Stiles closed his eyes as he slowly slid down on Peter’s hardness. He was well prepared now, he took the man smoothly and well. “Don’t talk stupid…”

“I’m appreciating you, it’s not stupid.” Peter breathed, bucking up his hips to slide all the way into Stiles with a pleased moan. “You look the best on my dick like this, Stiles. I can see everything of you, and I love it.” he spoke softly, his fingers stroking Stiles’ thigh in a fond and possessive manner.

Stiles felt himself going breathless again and he hated how Peter’s words were affecting him.

“No one told you this before?” Peter asked, reaching out to cup Stiles’ cheek. The boy just realized that he wasn’t moving yet. “That you’re beautiful?”

“No, no I…” Stiles shook his head a little, giving a soft moan when Peter thrust up again. “Shut up.”

“Am I the first?” Peter smirked, keeping his pace slow and gentle.

“Of course not, I’ve been with others before…!” the boy snapped weakly, pacing himself on both side of Peter with his arms.

“Not like that.” the man chuckled and reached out with both hands to cup Stiles’ face again. “The first one not to just fuck you, but tell you you matter? That you worth something and that you’re the most gorgeous?”

Stiles whimpered. He wasn’t ready for this, he was ready to have sex with Peter to get some distraction from his bothered mind, but he wasn’t prepared for the man taking him apart like this.

“I told you I don’t just want to fuck you.” Peter whispered and Stiles gave a surprised yelp as the man rolled them over, finding his way between Stiles’ legs again. He thrust in deep again and kissed away the boy’s gasp. “I want to take you, Stiles. I want to _have_ you.”

“Jesus…” Stiles stuttered breathless. “Peter…!” he moaned arching up into the man’s thrusts, spreading his legs to let him in deeper.

“You feel so good, Stiles.” Peter growled into his neck, sliding his arms around his waist. “You smell so good already too, like you’re mine to keep.”

“I want to be…” Stiles gasped out meeting with Peter’s thrust again.

“You do? You want to be mine?” the wolf asked, out of breath. Stiles felt him shiver, slamming into him with more force.

“Yes, yes...!” the boy moaned, clawing at Peter’s back. He was so close again, he was sure that he’ll come for the second time. “I want to be yours, don’t let anyone take me, make me yours!” Stiles was begging, he realized. But he didn’t mind. Peter could do whatever he wanted to him at this point. It was easier. It felt safer.

And Peter took him. He took him with a force that knocked all the air of Stiles’ lungs. He was deep and thick and Stiles loved it. It was much different from their first time, it was completely different. It didn’t hurt and Stiles felt cherished and safe and intimate. Peter was whispering his name into his ear like a prayer, told him how tight and wet and good he was. And Stiles had no words, only gasps and moans and kisses for him. He was on the verge of tears again from the pleasure that was building up his belly, until he felt Peter tense above him, his movements becoming erratic. The sounds Peter made when he came were obscene and arousing and it was all for Stiles. He came not long after too, clinging to the wolf for dear life.

This time, Peter didn’t leave him. He kept him near and warm, not moving away. And Stiles felt his mind and body finally rest in Peter’s bed, tightly tucked at his side. He fell asleep.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THIS!!!
> 
> THIS IS A WARNING. WARNING!! So this fic was a disaster for me. I wrote it for Nano but halfway I felt it was not working for these characters, but I still wrote it. My beta abandoned it after 3 chapters and I couldn't find another one. After these months I had no motivation to put more effort into this fic, but since it is somehow finished I still wanted to share the ending. So what I am warning here is:  
> \- typoes  
> \- bad grammar  
> \- plotholes  
> \- BASICALLY THIS FIC IS NOT READY AT ALL
> 
> Thank you, and sorry.

  

Stiles expected his dreams being peaceful and calm, or that he wouldn’t dream at all, but he had no such luck. He dreamed about a wolf chasing him with yellow fangs and blue eyes. He was running and running, and yet something in his head shouted and taunted the wolf that he will never catch up to him. But it wasn’t Stiles. Stiles was terrified… And then the wolf was catching up to him and that woke him with a start. Stiles was trembling as he looked around the room, trying to remember for a moment where he was. Thankfully the aching in his body reminded him pretty eagerly, it actually helped. He took a deep breath, laying back on his pillow, rubbing his eyes.

He was in the Hale’s house, somewhere near the town called Beacon Hills, in the woods. And he was in Peter’s bed. Next to Peter.

Stiles took another breath and turned his head to look at the wolf still sleeping. It was already late afternoon, they have slept away the whole day. But Stiles didn’t care, at least he didn’t have to think about what happened back in the mansion, that how his father was doing, and that what he had done with Peter or what they will do from now. This time he was still too groggy to think about anything too, so he was just watching the back of Peter’s head, buried into his pillow too. The boy then reached out and caressed the wolf’s shoulder with the back of his fingers. Peter didn’t wake up, but that was fine. Stiles felt himself smiling and slowly moving closer to the other.

This man had too much power over to him. This man could say one word and Stiles’ world would shake from the roots. This man had made him feel like the most important thing in the universe and at the same time, Stiles knew, he can make him feel the most insignificant one too. But right now, Stiles didn’t want to think about that. He wanted to cherish this just a little, think about Peter and how he wanted to make the man feel exactly the same.

Stiles leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on Peter’s nape. Then another one, and another. A small groan signed him that Peter was waking up and appreciates his little wake up call. The boy chuckled, pressing his nose against the man’s neck, taking a deep breath. He wondered why Peter seemed to do this to him many times, maybe because of his scent? Or some kind of marking? Either way, it was a nice thing to feel.

Stiles’ hands were stroking Peter’s shoulders and back absently, while he moved his attention higher, nuzzling at the wolf’s ear. Peter let out a small chuckle and Stiles grinned before he licked at Peter’s ear.

“Shit…” the wolf laughed softly, a little out of breath.

“What?” Stiles asked, lips brushing against the shell of Peter’s ear. “Sensitive? Here?” he grinned, biting down gently on the man’s earlobe. Peter didn’t answer him, but Stiles still knew, that yes, Peter’s ears were very sensitive.

So Stiles gave it all his attention, kissing and nibbling at it, listening to Peter’s small chuckles and breaths.

“Mmm… I’m hungry.” Stiles sighed when he had his fun, plopping down on Peter.

“You bad boy, getting me all riled up for nothing.” Peter sighed under him.

“It wasn’t for nothing, it was for…. dinner.” Stiles snorted and groaned when the man moved to shrug him off of him. He watched Peter roll on his back, rubbing his ear Stiles attacked just minutes ago. “That’s the only thing I know about you.” Stiles muttered suddenly.

Peter raised an eyebrow at him.

“What do you mean?” he asked, and Stiles felt a hint of challenge in his voice.

“I tried to look for you. About you. But you are nowhere, you don’t… You don’t exist. The data Derek has on you is fake.” Stiles said quietly, not taking his eyes off Peter. “I’m not even sure you’re Peter Hale, since… Derek told me his uncle died.”

“Such a refreshing pillow talk.” Peter sighed with a soft laugh. “Derek told you his uncle died?” he asked back, sounding amused.

“His exact words.” Stiles frowned, and when Peter didn’t speak, he continued. “You could be anyone, maybe you’re here to kidnap me, maybe you already did.”

“There would be more rope involved in that case, don’t you think?” the wolf remarked.

“Many things involve more rope.” Stiles pointed out and Peter smirked.

“You sound like you want to ask me things.” the man said. “Things I will not answer.” he commented and Stiles’ brows furrowed. “Because they are not important.”

“How come?” Stiles asked louder than he intended.

“Why would you want to know anything about me, Stiles? Isn’t it easier like this? Having me as a bodyguard, working for Hale and Co…” Peter stared and Stiles shook his head.

“It’s easier, but it’s not what I want. I want to know you, Peter.” the boy said, reaching out for the other.

“I have a feeling you’ll soon know more than you want.” the wolf smiled, taking Stiles’ hand and kissing his fingers.

“Your name, it’s really Peter?” Stiles asked, moving closer. The man, smiled against his fingers, sending him a look. Then he just nodded.

“And I really died.” he added in a low tone, making Stiles freeze.

“You’re a ghost?!” he gasped. Peter chuckled shaking his head.

“I wish.” he said with a sigh and moved to sit up. “Now, let’s get you dinner, before you die too.” he said, leaning over to peck Stiles’ lips in such a familiar matter that made Stiles’ heart break. “But first, a shower and a change of clothes.”

Stiles blushed when he realized he really had nothing on him. No clothes, no phones, nothing. The only thing he had was his pajamas on him… which now was lying on the floor. As he was processing that thought Peter got to the bag on the desk across the bed and fished out a few garments. Stiles frowned, wondering that Peter was indeed prepared for everything. But really everything. And that how was that possible?

“Whoever, or whatever you are, you are a pro, aren’t you?” Stiles asked, as he took the clothes from Peter.

“The best, Stiles. Many would kill to be in your place right now.” the wolf nodded, getting dressed himself too.

“You mean to be fucked by you?” Stiles grinned and Peter stopped his movements, contemplating.

“I suppose.” he answered at last.

The house was huge, Stiles wondered as Peter was leading him to the kitchen. It seemed like no one was living in it for quite a few years, yet it still had electricity and water. And the phone line… It was the strangest house he’s ever been, and the coldest one too. Stiles didn’t like it, still.

But at least it wasn’t his mansion, there were no cameras on every corner, people weren’t listening to his every word through microphones. And still, he felt safer than in this house. Though, it wasn’t exactly the house, Stiles thought as he raised his eyes at Peter across the table. He was finished with his second sandwich and wondered if he should ask for one more when the wolf pushed his own plate toward him.

“You seem like you need it more than me.” Peter remarked quietly. Stiles licked his lips and took the offered food.

“And then, I wanna check my mails and I wanna call Derek.” Stiles said half his food stuffed into his mouth. Peter sighed, nodding.

“We can call Derek, of course.” he said, Stiles narrowed his eyes at him. “But we have no connection.”

“Oh come on, you’re pro, but you lie so bad.” the boy rolled his eyes, finishing his sandwich. “Just a few mails, okay? I saw you have a laptop I want to use it, I’ll die without internet Peter.”

“I believe air is more important, but I’m not sure how you aliens are functioning so…” Peter spread his arms and Stiles wanted to hit him.

“You know how I mean, oh my god.” he huffed. “Why won’t you let me just check a few mails?”

“If you really want to know, I’m not comfortable strangers using that laptop.” the man answered, standing up to clean the plates. “So you will have to do until Derek gets here.”

“Wha- why would Derek come here?” Stiles frowned.

“Because I told him to come.” Peter explained as if he was talking to a toddler, washing the plates quickly. Stiles pursed his lips refusing to ask more, but he couldn’t keep silent.

“Can’t you bring me back?” he asked and Peter laughed a little.

“I can, it’s not about that.” he said. “Just wait until Derek gets here and you’ll know everything.”

“Why can’t you just answer one of my question clearly.” Stiles demanded and walked to Peter as the wolf was drying his hands. “I know shit about you, and now you seem to be scheming something, Peter. I’m getting kind of scared here, okay?”

Peter smirked, turning to Stiles and leaning his hips against the counter.

“Oh, it’s not fear I can smell on you.” he remarked, reaching for the boy, and pulling him to him by his waist. And Stiles went, though slightly reluctantly. He didn’t want to show that he’d jump to the first word of the man.

“Then what? That I haven’t showered for a while?” Stiles snorted.

“That too, you smell like someone I own.” Peter commented lightly. “But can also smell you’re excited. Despite all the killings, the attack, your father’s condition, Stiles, you’re excited. You love this. This mystery is what gives you purpose in life, am I right?” he asked, his fingers softly stroking Stiles’ waist through his shirt.

Stiles didn’t answer. He hated how Peter knew everything about him, apparently some things that even he didn’t.

“And who am I to take your purpose in life?” Peter whispered, leaning in to kiss the boy again. Stiles wanted to turn his head away, but the wolf chased his lips anyway. In the end Stiles gave in and kissed the wolf too. He almost regretted it, because Peter slowly parted his lips and deepened it.

“I haven’t showered yet…” Stiles tried, but Peter just pulled him to his body.

“That’s okay, Stiles, we could maybe do it together.” the wolf smirked, nuzzling at his cheek. “Maybe I should help you get clean everywhere, just to make you dirty again. How does that sound?” he offered and Stiles felt his knees go weak.

“I… that’s a good- good idea. Yes.” he stuttered, parting his lips to welcome Peter’s kiss again. The wolf then turned them and pinned Stiles against the counter. “Oh god, we’re not going to reach the shower…” Stiles moaned, throwing his head back as Peter was kissing down toward his shoulder.

“Not really.” the wolf breathed and slid his hand under Stiles’ shirt. The boy gave a short laugh at the tickling.

And then he spotted someone standing by the doorway of the kitchen.

“Christ, Peter, you must have heard I was here already…” the man groaned, throwing his bag down, probably oblivious or not caring of Stiles’ flailing in Peter’s arms. The wolf sighed and looked over his shoulder at the stranger. “You’re sick.” the man remarked, raising a judging eyebrow at them.

“I- I- what… who’s…?” Stiles stuttered, not sure what his reaction should be to this situation. He was still red from Peter’s kisses, rumpled and confused and slightly out of it. His hand was still holding onto Peter’s shirt as the man moved a bit away.

“Argent, I introduce you the Stilinski boy.” Peter started, then he motioned over the man to Stiles. “Stiles, this is Chris Argent.”

Stiles couldn’t fight his gasp at the name. Chris Argent. Argent. The family of hunters… collectors. And Kate Argent was the hunter who burned down the house. The house that was rebuilt and now her… brother, if Stiles remembered right, was standing in the kitchen, talking to Peter, a Hale, so casually. And Peter was still talking to him too. As if he was expecting him.

“You seem like someone well informed, aren’t you, boy?” Chris asked as he narrowed his eyes at Stiles’ expression. “I wonder if it’s accurate.” he remarked, though not in the challenging way Peter was fishing for information. Stiles rubbed his cheek as if that would make the redness go away, but only increasing it.

“My sources are reliable, otherwise I’d be in big trouble, Mr. Hunter.” Stiles shrugged, casting a glance at Peter clearly expecting an explanation. But Chris was faster.

“Where’s Derek?” he asked.

“He’ll be here in the morning.” Peter answered, crossing his arms. “Until then pick a bed and rest.”

“I don’t have time for this.” the hunter started.

“Well then walk away, I can do it alone too.” Peter was bluffing, even Stiles could tell. And he saw that Argent was also sure about it too.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” Stiles asked then, frowning at them. “Why are you here? And what are you fucking talking about?!” he looked at Chris then back to Peter.

Chris opened his mouth and wanted to say something, but only a long, suffering sigh left him. Then he wanted to speak, resulting in the same sigh. Peter just chuckled quietly next to Stiles.

“You haven’t told him anything, have you?” the hunter asked then, spreading his arm in a giving up motion.

“Not a word.” Peter answered too amused for Stiles’ taste. He was loving this. “We had… other things to do.” he added and Stiles kicked him, because Peter’s exhibitionism had to stop already.

“Good god…” Argent, sighed. “You do realize he could be you father?” he turned to Stiles.

“I guess.” Stiles licked his lips. “But my father is not a lying bastard so I think I can manage.” he snapped, turning to Peter.

“Ow.” the wolf, sighed, tilting his head at the boy. “I hoped you’ll go somewhere else with that.”

“Peter, what’s going on here?” Stiles asked quietly. That stone in his stomach returned, his limbs shivered from the sudden realization that Peter was planning something. Something that involves him and Derek too. Something big… His tone must have warned Peter too to take his question seriously. That smirk disappeared from his lips at least.

“You may want to wash up and rest before I present it all to you.” he said.

“So you’re not going to tell me?” Stiles asked, spreading his arms.

“Not now. I’d prefer to explain it when Derek gets here.” Peter nodded.

“Your timing is absolutely shitty, Hale.” Chris commented, taking his bag. “What am I supposed to do until the morning then?”

“I’m sure you’ll manage.” Peter shrugged. At that both Stiles and Argent sent him a look. In the end Chris gave up first and took his bag, heading toward the living room.

Stiles was left there with Peter too, but it felt like it wasn’t Peter. The boy wondered if he had just seen the real Peter, the one behind the name, the guy who actually existed.

“You’ll really tell me in the morning?” Stiles asked. Peter didn’t answer and for some reason, Stiles didn’t expect him to. So he just turned and left, searching for the bathroom, because he refused to ask Peter which way it was.

\--

Stiles would lie if he said the shower didn’t help. It helped a lot. Though Stiles’ mind started buzzing again. He was thinking about Peter and his scheming, he was thinking about his father, injured and probably in the hospital. Derek would have called if there was something bad with him… right? Stiles felt his body tremble from anxiety again and he cursed under his breath. He quickly dried off and put back his clothes he borrowed from Peter. He hated not having his phone, his laptop or his own underwear, but he had to manage somehow.

The worst thing was that there was no distraction from his mind, there was nothing he can focus on. Stiles was desperately trying to convince himself not to go to Peter again, because he was supposed to stay mad at him… right? He wasn’t sure. As he was thinking about that he crossed the living room, spotting Argent’s bag on the coffee table.

Distraction. Stiles found his focus.

“Isn’t it your bedtime already?” Chris asked, sitting in one of the chairs. Stiles saw him put something in his pocket.

“I know what hunters are.” Stiles started.

“Good, I would be worried otherwise.” the man nodded.

“No, I mean I know what you are. Collectors. Of the supernatural. You weren’t supposed to kill.” the boy continued and Chris kept silent. He frowned at him.

“So Peter did talk about a few things.” he remarked then when Stiles didn’t continue.

“No, see, that’s the thing. He didn’t tell me shit.” Stiles said hurrying over to the other. “I dug up everything I know by myself. And I know a lot of things.” he said, sitting down on the coffee table in front of Argent, his eyes intently on him.

“That’s really nice.” the man frowned at him. “I’m not sure what do you want, Stiles. Do you want to ask me something?” he asked.

“I am I’m just not sure you’d answer.” the boy said.

“Try me.” Chris nodded.

Stiles licked his lips, rubbing his hands.

“Kate Argent, she was the one- she killed- so she went psycho and killed the Hales. Arson.” he said, he didn’t have to tell Chris he already knew after all. “I read her autopsy reports. She was killed by a werewolf, that’s obvious. The clawmarks… she got her throat—“

“Get to the point.” Chris interrupted. Stiles bit his lower lip.

“It was Derek, wasn’t it?” he asked and the hunter didn’t seem surprised. Stiles spread his hands to urge him on for an answer.

“It wasn’t her Derek killed.” Chris said at last, his glance flickering around. As if he would wonder where Peter was. “Why do you care, Stiles, what do you have from this?” the hunter asked, crossing his legs.

“What do you mean? I’m just curious, I want to know. I just want to know…”

“You do realize this is very personal, you shouldn’t be knowing about the fire or what hunters are. No ordinary human should know.” Chris sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“I guess I’m… I just really want to know more about Derek, about… Peter.” Stiles shrugged, suddenly realizing the weight this kind of information has. That he wasn’t looking into a game’s walkthrough or a book’s summary, he was asking about actual human lives, which actually happened to others who have suffered through it.

“I’m going to tell you what I know, and I hope you’ll get a grip on… whatever this is.” the hunter said with a sigh. Stiles bit his lip not to retort to that. His thing with Peter was his own business, he didn’t need people to judge him for it and telling him they just want to protect him.

“Kate wasn’t thinking straight…” Chris started, though as he said the words even Stiles could see that he wasn’t sure about that. “The house burned and only the kids survived. And their uncle, apparently.” he said. “Two years after that… an Alpha came and killed everyone involved, including Kate.”

“Derek.” Stiles nodded.

“He wasn’t an Alpha back then.” the hunter smiled, though it wasn’t a happy one. “Stiles, do you know how werewolf packs work?”

“What does it matter? They have an Alpha, and Betas. They are usually matriarchs, like the oldest, strongest female takes over the post when the current Alpha dies or killed.” the boy said. Though he frowned then. He knew that after the fire Derek, his sister Laura and Peter survived. Following the logic, Laura was the one next in charge to be an Alpha.

“Laura?” Stiles frowned, trying to remember what he knows about Derek’s sister. Because she just… disappeared. There were no records of her either and Stiles just assumed she either died or… left? She never asked Derek about it, and Derek never talked about it.

“From what I heard her official status is that she’s missing.” Chris started, looking around. “But I have a feelings she’s buried around here somewhere.”

That took Stiles without warning. He shivered, snapping his head to frown at the hunter. If he was serious. And if he was, what was he talking about?!

“So, Stiles…” the man started, not looking away from his judging glance. “What I know is this: the Hales were killed in this fire eight years ago, sparing only a few. Two years later, Laura Hale disappeared and my sister was killed. And it wasn’t Laura, or Derek. Derek wasn’t an Alpha back then, I know, because I saw him become one. And Laura was already… missing.”

Stiles felt his stomach turn at the story. Was it true at all? Could he trust this guy? He only met him just a few hours ago. But he seemed to know what happened with the Hales. And what he was saying…

“Peter.” Stiles muttered. “Peter killed… he killed Kate.” he summed. He didn’t say the other thing, that Peter was the one killing Laura.

“You’re smart, Stiles, I believe with the right knowledge you’ll know what to do.” Chris said softly, almost as if he was feeling sorry for him. And Stiles didn’t need that.

“How did Derek become Alpha?” Stiles snapped, not wanting to hear anything that the hunter wanted to say beyond that. His relationship with Peter was his business, period.

“He killed another one.” Argent said quietly.

“Who?” Stiles demanded and Chris closed his eyes for a moment.

“The one who killed my sister.” he said and his eyes cast over the stairs. Stiles didn’t know why he followed the hunter’s gaze, but he found Peter standing by the stairs, watching them with amused interest.

“Oh, you’re not going to continue? I was about to get some snacks for story night.” the wolf muttered.

Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but then Chris’ words hit him. Derek was an Alpha, and he killed… he killed Peter for it. That’s why he said he was dead, because he was the one killing him. And Chris saw it all. It must have been a long and… strange day.

“It’s not like you’d tell me anything if I ask!” Stiles snapped then.

“You’d be right about that. I’m just surprised you wouldn’t ask our guest about why he’s here and what is going on now and not five years ago.” Peter commented.

“Is it so bad that I want to know more about you?” the boy asked, hearing Chris sigh in retreat at it. As if saying that Stiles hasn’t learned a thing.

“Your priorities are slightly questionable, if I could say so.” the wolf sighed too, then held out his hand. “Come with me, I’ll help you to rest.” Stiles felt his shoulders slump. He knew he should be more worried about holding a hand of a murderer, who killed his own niece and a possible zombie… But in the end he stood up and took the wolf’s hand. “Good night, Argent.”

“How do you come back from the dead?” Stiles asked as Peter was leading him up the stairs. “How can you possibly do that? The supernatural community can do that too? They can bring people back from the dead?” he asked, but more like rambled. Peter died, he was killed. Derek and Argent also admitted it, and now here was holding his hand and planning something. “Do they need young lives for that? Is this why I’m here? You’re going to kill me for eternal life?” Stiles asked and that made Peter finally turn to him.

“I think you mistake my species with a different one.” he commented. “Come on, sit down.” he said, pulling Stiles into his room and guiding him to the bed. Stiles went with him reluctantly. He thought he will have less questions now, but he had more and the urge to get answers were worse. Maybe because he couldn’t just research with the new clues he discovered.

“Just tell me something, just one thing!” Stiles actually begged, watching as Peter was searching for something in his bag. “The attack, those shapeshifters. Those were your fault?”

“Oh, please.” the wolf snorted, actually sounding offended. “I usually work alone, and not in such a stupid way.”

“Is that a yes or a no?” Stiles demanded.

“It’s a ‘no’, Stiles. Are you happy?” Peter asked, walking to the boy, holding something in his hand. Stiles was thinking about it. Was he happy? He wasn’t. If it were Peter whose fault it was he could have shouted at him, and have someone to blame. Like this, he had no one. Just like when his mother died.

Stiles’ felt dizzy as that thought hit him.

“I want to call Derek, I want to talk to my father.” he said looking up at Peter.

“Your father is doing well and Derek will be here in the morning so you can interrogate him all you want.” the man said then held out the thing he got from his bag. It was a pill bottle. Stiles’ eyes widened when he read the label. It was his sleeping pill bottle, the strong stuff. He slowly took it from Peter, staring at it.

“It will help.” Peter said softly.

“No it’s just… it’s just going to make me sleep.” Stiles said, shaking his head.

“And that’s what you need right now.”

“Do I? Or you do? Wanting to get rid of me, taking me out of the way, so I won’t cause trouble.” Stiles attacked, holding the bottle tightly in his hand. It was tempting, to just take one and travel to the morning and ask Derek and finally see what Peter and the hunter were planning.

“Both, I suppose.” Peter nodded and Stiles swallowed. He didn’t know what he felt.

He felt strongly for Peter, it was sure.

“Do I have a choice? Can we have sex again?” the boy asked and Peter smiled. He sat down next to him, his hand sliding on his back too smoothly and too reassuringly.

“We can do whatever you want, Stiles.” Peter muttered in a low voice.

“Except going home, or call my father.” the boy said, feeling those evil fingers stroke the back of his neck. He shivered and looked at the pills again. “What’s going to happen in the morning?” he asked quietly.

“You’ll find out.”

Stiles rubbed his eyes. He knew that Peter wasn’t giving him much of a choice. He didn’t want to have sex with him again, he was too disturbed for it. So he just quickly opened the bottle and popped a pill in his mouth, washing it down with the water he got from the wolf.

“Happy?” he glared at Peter as he threw the bottle down the floor. The wolf just sighed and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“Come here.” he whispered and pulled Stiles on the bed, pulling him on his lap. The boy went without question or opposing, because Peter was warm and he still felt something for him. And being with Peter, despite that he was a proved murderer, was calming.

Stiles leaned his head on Peter’s shoulder, feeling his heartbeat against his body. Peter was definitely alive, despite that he was dead. Once. Stiles shivered at the thought, somehow. He remembered the image of Peter bleeding out with a headshot on the floor, dead already. At that the wolf held him tighter and Stiles felt like crying for some reason. Yes, he really needed sleep. Peter tilted his head down to brush his lips against his and Stiles didn’t mind. He kissed him back softly, feeling the pills already working. He gave a whimper. He wanted to spend a bit more time with Peter, but it was already too late.

“Shh, it will be fine, Stiles,” Peter whispered to him and the boy felt his hot breath against his cheek. He realized his eyes were already closed.

“I hate you, I really hate you.” Stiles muttered, groggy and already half asleep.

“Good, then it will be easier.” the wolf’s voice was soft, maybe a little bitter.

“Wha… what will be easier?” Stiles asked, moving his head, but it already felt too heavy. “What… Peter…? Peter?” he tried, but the man just kissed his temple and stroke his back.

“Sleep now.” Peter whispered and Stiles squirmed on his lap. “Sleep.” the man repeated, but Stiles didn’t hear it, he was already asleep.

\--

Stiles came around slowly as he woke up. It was too slow for his liking. The sun was already up, making the whole room bask in a cold, morning light. There were sounds and noises coming from downstairs and Stiles actually recognized Derek’s voice. He groaned, trying to hurry his body up to move, but he was always a little slow after the nights with sleeping pills.

He heard shouting, and something was bashing against something… it was like a door getting broken. Or something like that. Stiles forced himself to wake up and put some clothes on. The stumble down the stairs was a challenge, but thankfully it woke Stiles up so he could finally realize what was going on in the living room: a fight.

“I can’t believe I let you work with my pack, with the Stilinskis on top of that!” Derek was shouting in a way Stiles never heard him before. He slowly got to a halt by the stairs and looked into the living room. But before he could see what was going on, Chris appeared in front of him.

“Maybe you should stand back.” he told him quietly and pushed him back a little. Stiles huffed and looked over the man’s shoulder to see the distraction. The furniture was scattered all over the room, he also spotted a broken window and in the middle of this mess Derek seemed he was about to strangle Peter.

“You asked me to forgive you, to trust you this one time, saying you just wanted to change!” Derek shouted and slammed Peter’s head back on the floor. The other wolf gave a wet cough. Stiles gasped and stepped around Argent to go to them, but the man grabbed his hand.

“Just let them sort it out now.” he said.

“But Derek’s gonna kill him!” Stiles insisted.

“Hopefully.” the hunter snorted and pulled Stiles back, but the boy was yanking at his arm to go to the two wolves fighting.

“And I ask you just one last time to trust me, just last time.” Peter rasped as Derek was still keeping a hand on his throat, squeezing. “This one last time, then you won’t see me again.”

“I thought that the last time I killed you!” Derek shouted, but Stiles could spot a shake in his words. This was getting hard on the wolf. It was his chance.

“Derek…!” Stiles called him when it was clear he couldn’t get out of Argent’s grip. Derek looked up at him. His eyes widened for a second before turning back to Peter. He let him go.

“Get your stuff, Stiles we’re going back.” the wolf said stepping over Peter to walk to Stiles. The boy just spread his arms. The bite on his wrist was visible and Stiles didn’t miss Derek frowning at it for a second.

“This is all I have.” he said. “What was this about?” he asked, looking over Peter who was slowly getting on his feet too. The bruises Derek made on his neck were already healing.

“Something dangerous, something I’m hired to protect you from. So we’re going back, your father wants to see you.” Derek said, sending a glare at Argent who let Stiles go.

“Derek, if you take him back now, you’re making a mistake.” Peter said. “If you want to protect him, you must let me do this.”

“Are you alright, no one hurt you?” Derek asked ignoring Peter. Stiles felt a little confused, but nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine everything is okay. I just want to… know what’s going on.” he frowned.

“Nothing. Nothing here. I’ll explain everything to you in the car, about the attack.” Derek started and motioned toward the door.

“Derek.” this time Argent was the one talking. “If what Peter is telling is true, then if you take him back like this things will get much worse.”

“I have been supervising him for a year and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.” the wolf insisted with a tense jaw. Stiles frowned around at the people around him. They knew something he didn’t. Something way more serious was going on than he thought.

“Stop talking like I wasn’t here and tell me what the fuck is going on!” he demanded and turned to Peter. “You fucking owe me this, Peter, tell me what’s this all about?!”

Maybe Peter wasn’t the best person to ask this, but Stiles wanted to hear it from him. For his own sanity. Or maybe just to hear his voice.

The wolf licked his lips, and let out a heavy sigh.

“It’s a bit complicated.” he said.

“Try me.” Stiles crossed his arms.

“I was tracking someone… something.” Peter started. “And the clues were leading to you. And I believe that what I’m searching for is hiding inside you. I can’t tell anything more otherwise he will be alarmed and flee again. I can’t have that, not now that it’s in my reach. And if Derek would help me I can catch it.”

“If all that is true.” Derek hissed.

“No no, wait! What are you talking about?! That I’m possessed?!” Stiles asked, holding up his hand. “Is that what’s this all about?!”

“Peter believes you have a supernatural being hiding inside you. And it can either just leave or it can use you to start havoc and chaos.” the wolf said.

Peter smirked then.

“I don’t _believe_ , I know, Derek. And if you wouldn’t believe me at all, you would have called it by its name.” he pointed out and that freaked Stiles out. He turned to Derek, seeing his expression waver just a little. Whatever this was, Derek started to believe Peter.

“Why, why can’t you call it by name?!” Stiles asked.

“It would wake him. And it may already be aware of us, so let’s do this either way.” Chris said. “Sort it out, you two.” he motioned over to Derek and Peter.

“Wait I don’t have any say in this?!” the boy gasped, taking a step back.

“Just let us try and if I was wrong, what is the worst that can happen?” Peter asked, in an urging tone.

“That Mr. Stilinski will never trust me and my pack again.” Derek commented.

“Hello?!” Stiles tried louder, waving his hands between the two wolves. “Am I invisible or what?!” Derek was the one looking at him. His lips were a thin line was he was considering his options, probably. Stiles didn’t like that expression.

“Stiles if… if there’s something really inside you, I can’t let it go untreated.” Derek started, as if he was trying to convince himself too. “But if there’s nothing then… I was risking your physical and mental safety, because of an insane idiot was crying wolf. “ he glared at Peter.

“I’d be offended, but I must agree that was a brilliant play on words.” Peter commented. “So this mean you will help us?” he asked.

Derek rubbed his face and looked at Stiles. Then he walked over to him.

“Stiles, did they tell you anything of what’s going to happen?” he asked quietly.

“No one told me anything.” Stiles said and Derek cursed quietly.

“If you agree to do this, I will have to… hurt you in a way.” the wolf started. He reached out at Stiles and when he was sure that the boy was alright with him being close the pressed the tip of his fingers to the back of his neck. “I need to put my claws here and draw blood.”

“And why would you do that?” Stiles asked quietly, noting how Peter stepped next to him.

“It’s a way to open your mind, to look inside…” Derek explained. “What I’m asking is, if you want us to do it.”

“You mean if I want you to wound me and then poke around in my head for something I don’t know shit about?” Stiles summed.

“Exactly.” the answer was immediate from all the three men in the room. Stiles wanted to kick them all one by one.

“Okay.” the boy said then.

“What?” Derek was the only one asking back this time. “Stiles—“

“Listen, I- I had enough. If we do this, then can I go back and see my father?” he asked. Peter and Chris nodded.

“Stiles, this is serious.” Derek tried, but the boy shook his head.

“I’m serious too. Just do what the fuck ever you want and then I’ll leave this house forever.” Stiles stomped his feet.

“Let’s waste not time then, the bastard may already planning to leave.” Chris said.

Stiles was afraid. He had no idea that there may be something inside him just a few hours ago. And now he was ready to let these people do… whatever they want. Hopefully it wasn’t going to hurt too much. And it involves no blood. And not much pain. And… Stiles couldn’t really think about it, because the next thing he knew that Derek walked behind him as he was seated on the couch and brushes the tip of his claws on the back of his neck.

“Are you ready?” Derek asked and Stiles wanted to say yes, he was. But suddenly his throat was too tight. “Stiles?” the wolf asked.

“Y-yes…” Stiles stuttered, when he felt a touch on his hand. He just realized that Peter was sitting next to him and he was holding his hand.

“I’ll be there, Stiles. Don’t worry.” Peter said and Stiles frowned.

“How can you be there? Where’s there…?” Stiles asked.

“You will see, let’s go.” Peter said and looked Derek. The wolf hesitated, Stiles could feel, but when he wanted to tell Derek to do it, he felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck too. It was like a hit in the head and yes, it hurt. He shouted, but no sound came from his throat.

When Stiles opened his eyes, he was in a huge, white room. It was strange how his eyes didn’t have to adjust to the light that was there, but seemingly coming from nowhere. This place seemed unreal, yet it felt too real… Stiles had no words to explain it.

“Hey!” he shouted around, and expected an echo, but there was none. Stiles licked his lips, looking around. It was just a white room with now windows, no doors… nothing. But as he was looking more carefully he spotted something in the distance. It was a tree stump… with something on top of it.

Stiles figured he will at least see what it could be. He remembered Derek telling him that they will look into his mind and he wondered if this was it. If this was his mind or just a stupid hallucination. He was walking closed to the tree, and finally realizing what was lying on it. It was some kind of animal, seemingly a fox. Though Stiles didn’t remember if there were foxes with this dark fur.

The fox was sleeping on the stump peacefully even when Stiles reached him. He put his hands on the stump that came up to his chest and leaned close to look at the animal. It didn’t seem dangerous or anything that shouldn’t be there. And before Stiles knew it he moved and crawled on the stump, reaching out for the fox. Before he could touch it, the animal opened his eyes and looked at him. His eyes were white and dark at the same time and Stiles felt fear crawl up his spine. He froze, just staring at the fox who raised its head and looked at him, as if an old god would measure him up for his worth and judging him unworthy.

And yet, Stiles still reached for him and put his hand on his back. Under his fingers he felt the universe, the whole world born and destroyed and he knew in that moment that the fox was bearing so much power that could ruin this world.

“Together.” the fox whispered. Stiles pulled his hand back. “Together we could do it.” it said, looking at him. And Stiles realized. The fox measured him and found him worthy for whatever he wanted.

“Together we could do what?” he asked back.

“Rule the world.” the fox said. Though his words were distorted and Stiles had no idea if he said rule or ruin. Probably both.

“I don’t know.” Stiles admitted and the fox sat up, still looking at him.

“Make a wish and I will grant it.” he said. “Ask for my help and I will make you powerful.” he spoke. “You have the talent to use my gift wise.”

Stiles felt excited. To have power? To not be dismissed again? To do whatever he wanted? Maybe he could find his mother’s killer too…

“Stiles!” someone called his name from the other end of the room. It was a familiar someone. And when the boy wanted to look over a hand turned his head away from it. It was the fox. Stiles gasped when he saw his own reflection looking back at him, and holding his chin.

“Let me in, Stiles.” the fox said with his own mouth, with his own voice. Stiles thought he should be afraid, but the most he was curious. This creature was hiding inside of him and now it wasn’t fleeing. It was offering him strength and power and everything he ever wanted. “Let me in.” the fox repeated, his hands sliding on his jaw, pulling him closer.

Someone was still calling his name, but Stiles couldn’t hear them clearly or remember who they were. He was watching the fox and listening to him, that how he will have the strength and power and knowledge to search for everyone who ever hurt him and his family, how he will finally be able to do something…

“Now, that’s enough Mr. Stilinski.” Stiles heard and felt an arm sliding around his torso and pulling him away. He gave a small, scared sound and grabbed the fox’s hand when the stranger was trying to pull him back. “Stiles.” the man called him softly again and he realized it was Peter.

“Let me in, Stiles.” the fox demanded, pulling him toward him by his hand again, but Peter held him with both arms around his middle.

“What did it tell you?” Peter asked, his voice was filling up his mind, as if it was static and messing up everything. “Tell me what it offered and I give you something better.” the wolf whispered into his ear.

“He would give me power to fight back. To rule the world.” Stiles muttered, as if he was in a kind of trance. The fox was looking at him with his dark and white eyes, having his own face and not letting him go.

“Oh, but Stiles, you can already do that.” Peter spoke softly and gentle.

“I can’t…” Stiles shook his head, feeling the fox grip him tighter.

“You can. I can show you. You don’t need the help of anyone to get power, you can do it too. I can show you.” Peter spoke with a bit of urgency, pulling Stiles too. The boy gave a pained groan.

“How?” he asked.

“I’m a hire to kill.” Peter spoke. “I’ve caused the fall and rise of many during my work and I can show you how it’s done, Stiles. The fox is right in one thing: you have the seed, now you just have to use it wise.”

Stiles felt like he needed air, but how he can get air when they were inside his _head_?

“Let me show you.” Peter said.

“Let me in!” the fox insisted.

They were both pulling him and Stiles felt like he will be torn apart at this rate. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He needed to choose. He had to let go of the fox or he had to push Peter away.

“Stiles…” Peter tried again, but his voice was calling the same time as the fox’s. They were both calling him.

“Stiles, I love you.” the wolf said then and Stiles felt something snap in him. He let the fox’s hand go, just to see the thing turn back into a fox again. It was barking at him with a sound straight out of a demon’s mouth as Peter was pulling him away and away from the tree stump.

The whole room was shaking and breaking, falling apart.

“I got you.” Peter told him and pulled him tightly to his body. “Just a little bit more.” he said and Stiles bared himself for whatever impact they will have, or what was going to happen.

And then it happened. He felt something in his throat, something that was blocking his air. He coughed and clawed at his throat in a vain attempt to get it out, but it seemed stuck. Stiles started hurling and fell on his knees. He was sure he will die, but then the thing in his throat started to move. He coughed more and felt air finally get into his lungs. And with a final fit of coughing _the thing_ was finally out.

Only that it wasn’t a piece of fishbone or corn, it was a fly. Or a firefly. Stiles wasn’t sure. All he knew that it was flying and buzzing and flew away… until Argent trapped it in a wooden box.

“Got it.” he smirked triumphantly. Stiles could still hear the buzzing and the shouting echoing in his ears from the fox, demanding to be let in. He was staring at the box in disbelief his limbs shaking and feeling like he had just ran a marathon. He felt something warm dripping down his neck and he was sure it was blood.

“You were right…” Derek was speaking somewhere nearby in disbelief. Stiles closed his eyes for a second before staring at the dusty carpet and jolted when he felt a touch on his back.

“Shh.” Peter soothed him calmly. Stiles started to tremble more violently, feeling like he will faint soon, but the darkness didn’t claim him. He felt Peter wipe the back of his neck from the blood then leaning in to press his hot lips against the wound. Stiles closed his eyes tightly, and he didn’t care that Derek was around he pressed into Peter’s body who held him tight and safe to his chest. And just held him.

Stiles closed his eyes and pretended there were only two of them. No one else. Just a little while.

“What was that?” Stiles asked quietly when he found his voice.

“In Japanese, it’s called the Nogitsune, a dark fox.” Peter said. As he spoke, his voice was vibrating through his chest too, to Stiles’ body. It was relaxing.

“How did you know it was there…?” the boy asked.

“I saw it. In the jungle.” Peter answered. He was speaking in code only Stiles could understand. Their first meeting, three years ago. In the club. Where Peter could have just fucked him and let him be. But he didn’t.

And Peter gave him a purpose to go on, because of this. Because he wanted to get that fox hiding inside him… Stiles was thinking too much and too ahead again. He didn’t dare to look at any of them in the room, just clinging to Peter for a while.

“You will be fine now, Stiles.” Peter spoke. “No sleepless nights, no restless mind… more than your own.” he said, but Stiles couldn’t imagine how life will be without those. In the past three years he was living as someone damaged, someone who needed drugs, alcohol and other distraction to sleep to not think about things… Was it really just the fox?

“What… what are you going to do with it…?” Stiles asked. Peter didn’t answer. “Peter?” the boy asked, turning his head to look at him.

“I can’t tell you. From here, it’s not your business.” the wolf said, casting a glance at Argent. Stiles was too tired to argue. That it was his business, this thing was living inside him and offered him power and strength and now Peter was just dismissing him.

“And we are leaving.” Derek stepped in. “Come on, Stiles your father would be happy to see you. He is worried.” he added and held his hand for him. “I rather not stay here longer than necessary.”

“Derek, getting rid of a possession is like having a limb torn off. Give the boy some time to adapt.” Peter spoke.

“He can adapt in the car, away from you and your lies.” Derek hissed. That reminded Stiles of something. Something Peter said back there, in his mind, probably. Was it also a lie too? He was staring at the wolf, but then he felt a tug on his shoulder. Derek was pulling him away from Peter. “Stiles, get your things and let’s go.” he said.

“I don’t-“

“Yes, let him get his stuff.” Peter interrupted. “Come on, Stiles. I’ll help you. Just lean on me.” the wolf pulled him on his feet. Stiles felt again how weak he was, he could barely get his feet to move. He was leaning heavily on Peter. Though he had no idea what stuff he supposed to have, he had nothing aside from his dirty clothes he arrived in. They went up the stairs to Peter’s room.

“You’re not going to come back with us, right?” Stiles asked as Peter lead him inside the room and let him sit down.

“No.” the wolf said.

“But will you come back?” the boy tried, looking at the wolf as he closed the door.

“No.” Peter answered. “I left my post during an attack, I failed my task, Derek has to kick me out either way. But I have no purpose being with them anymore.” he said.

Stiles felt his limbs go colder.

“I was there for the fox, Stiles. And now I have it.” Peter said. The boy was staring at him, feeling faint.

“All you did was for the fox?” he asked quietly watching Peter take his clothes he arrived and holding it up for him as an answer. Stiles felt like all the air escaped him.

“I’m not good in protecting people, Stiles. I’m better in other things.” the wolf said.

“You’re good at hurting them.” Stiles muttered. “You gave me a purpose…”

“I knew I’ll need to prepare before I can catch it, I couldn’t let you go off track and do something stupid.” as Peter spoke, Stiles felt like he was in the twilight zone. This can’t be real, this wasn’t happening. What Peter said and did were all lies? This couldn’t be real.

“So this is it…?” Stiles asked, gasping for air.

“Yes.” Peter nodded, putting the clothes in Stiles’ hand.

“No.” the boy wheezed, looking at his neatly folded, but still dirty clothes.

“You should go, Derek must be furious already.” he heard the words and there were loud stomping on the corridor outside.

“Stiles, we must go now!” Derek shouted. He indeed sounded angry. But before Stiles could do anything, Peter opened the door.

“I think he may need help to get to the car.” he said dryly. Stiles couldn’t say anything, he was trying to catch his breath and just survive. Someone was pulling at him again.

“What did you do to him?” Derek asked as he helped Stiles up from the bed.

“I believe I just broke up with him.” Peter shrugged.

That was it. Stiles couldn’t hear or see anything else after that sentence. The tone Peter used, the carelessness it was emitted. Stiles wished the world would end then and there so his suffering could too. But no, the world didn’t end, it was going on and on, like a painful dance and Stiles was utterly tired of it all.

“I’m sorry.” he heard Derek’s quiet voice. They were already away from the Hale house, away from Beacon Hills on the road. Stiles had no idea how long they were driving already. All he knew that he was sitting next to Derek, clutching his dirty clothes. “I’m sorry.” the wolf repeated.

“For what?” Stiles asked, his voice hoarse and weak. Exactly how he felt.

“For Peter. For what he’d done.” Derek said. “I should have known, I should have… I could have helped, somehow. I tried to warn you.” he muttered and Stiles knew that he was blaming himself for what happened. Even if Stiles felt guiltier, he was the stupid one listening to the lies and caresses of Peter. And in the end both of them were played by a wolf who cheated death too.

“It’s not your fault…” Stiles heard himself say.

“It is. I swore to protect you, and I failed.” Derek insisted.

“I’m still alive…” the boy retorted quietly.

“But you’re hurt.” the wolf muttered just as quiet, looking at the road.

“Isn’t that what means to be alive?” Stiles asked, looking at the wolf for a second. He didn’t answer for a long time and Stiles didn’t mind. He needed the quiet, to collect his thoughts and to come to terms with what happened.

“I knew Peter didn’t really want to join me again. To be family again.” Derek started then, quietly. It felt like a confession. “I knew he had something on his mind, but I still… let him join the pack.” he said. “It was the second time I made this mistake.” he added.

Stiles just turned his head to toward the wolf. He only half knew what he was talking about. He remembered what Argent said, that Derek was the one killing Peter and becoming Alpha. And before that Peter was their Alpha…

“He told me that it was an accident.” Derek whispered. “Laura’s death. That it was instinct. And she was in a bad place in a bad time, that he didn’t know what he was doing because he was just emerging from his coma…” he spoke, and Stiles didn’t feel like he has the right to hear this, but he listened. “But when he killed Kate I knew it wasn’t an accident. He planned it. He planned to kill my only remaining family because he wanted her powers.”

“I’m sorry…” Stiles whispered, but he knew it won’t cover it. There was no way he knew what Derek was going through. All he knew how it felt being betrayed by someone you thought you can trust.

“I killed him and thought it will be over, to be done with.” Derek’s voice wasn’t shaking. He had made his decision and he had no doubts about it.

“How did he come back from the dead?” Stiles asked hoarsely.

“I don’t know. All I know that… he did.” Derek sighed. “And that he was hiding from me. I knew he was alive a year later when received a mail with the picture of our house, rebuilt. I just knew… that it was Peter. And then he called me. He sometimes called me.” he muttered. “And when we took the job for your father, Mr. Stilinski, Peter called me again and asked to work together. Again.”

“Why did you let him?” Stiles wondered out loud. Derek just sighed deeply.

“He’s my only family.” he answered. “Though not anymore.” he added.

Stiles leaned his head back, watching as Derek was driving in silence. He wondered about the house they were in and about Peter. That house was exactly like Peter. It burned down once, destroyed and killed. And then built again, but it wasn’t the same house. It was a ghost house. It looked the same as the original, but it was cold, and fake and empty. Just like Peter. Stiles hated himself how he felt sad over that fact, just hours after Peter proved that he had no heart or soul or cared about any other living thing. Why would he feel sad over someone like that?

“I’m sorry too.” Stiles whispered. He really was. He was just betrayed by a lover, but Derek was betrayed by his only living family after their tragedy.

As they arrived back in the city Derek told Stiles he still can’t bring him to the mansion as they are still cleaning and preparing it with new equipment that can weed out shapeshifters too. The whole system had to be redesigned. Until then they had a hotel room for Stiles where he could freshen up and change before they would go to the hospital to his father. Stiles was glad for that. He needed a breather after what happened, even if he felt a bit lighter.

Sorting out his dirty clothes he wondered if he should just toss them in the garbage and burn them, along with the clothes Peter gave him. As Stiles was throwing everything in the laundry bag a piece of paper fell from his folded up sweatpants. It was just a piece of paper and Stiles was about to throw it out. It had nothing on it, just a date. Three months from there. No name, no place. Just a date. Stiles frowned at it, wondering if he needed to remember any date, but it wasn’t his handwriting. It wasn’t Derek’s either, he wasn’t familiar with it.

Stiles wondered if it was from Peter, but it made no sense. Maybe he just desperately wanted his words not to be true and he was imagining things. Either way, he knew he will remember that date and threw the paper away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THE NOTES AT THE BEGINNING!! THIS FIC IS NOT BETAED AND IT'S BASICALLY HALF FINISHED.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THIS!!!
> 
> THIS IS A WARNING. WARNING!! So this fic was a disaster for me. I wrote it for Nano but halfway I felt it was not working for these characters, but I still wrote it. My beta abandoned it after 3 chapters and I couldn't find another one. After these months I had no motivation to put more effort into this fic, but since it is somehow finished I still wanted to share the ending. So what I am warning here is:  
> \- typoes  
> \- bad grammar  
> \- plotholes  
> \- BASICALLY THIS FIC IS NOT READY AT ALL
> 
> Thank you, and sorry.

  

Stiles thought that he was prepared to see his father on the hospital bed, but when the sight became real, he realized he wasn’t.

“Dad!” Stiles felt himself going back to being a five year old little boy, thinking that his father was invincible, but seeing he wasn’t. And that hurt. Because it meant that he will also fall one day, just like his mother.

Stiles hurried to the bed, and threw his arms around his father, hugging him tightly. For his greatest relief he was hugging him back too.

“Stiles, I was so worried. Are you alright? Derek told me you were not injured, but I…” Mr. Stilinski spoke and Stiles knew what he was talking about. He must have seen his doppelganger being shot, probably. “I saw at least three of you…”

“Thankfully I haven’t seen any of you, but someone looking like Scott was in my room.” Stiles said, not letting his father go still. He had tears in his eyes and he was afraid that if he lets go, this dream ends. But thankfully it wasn’t the case. He settled next to his father’s bed, talking about the attack of what they knew and how Derek and his team handled it.

“They were there before I even knew what was happening, but I still got myself shot.” his father said, looking at the wound at his side. “Boyd saved my life.” he said.

Stiles pursed his lips, knowing that Peter should also have been there, but he abandoned his post to go to him. Stiles now knew it wasn’t exactly only for his safety. But he didn’t want to think about it now, not now.

“The house will be safe now, Derek told me.” Stiles said quietly, holding his father’s hand with his trembling fingers. He was so afraid he will lose him in this, he realized.

“I was so afraid, that I will lose you too.” his father whispered then, smiling at him gently. Stiles looked up at his expression and felt his heart break. They both were reminded why this was taking such a big impact on them. It wasn’t the actual attack, it was what it reminded them of…

“But I’m still here. You’re still here too.” Stiles smiled back gently. His father nodded in agreement.

Yes, they were still alive, still going strong, despite both of them were hurt in more than one ways. But Mrs. Stilinski always said that being hurt is what makes you alive.

\--

It took weeks for Mr. Stilinski to get back on his feet and he was still not showing in public. Stiles never told him, but he liked this period, because his father was home a lot and they could catch up on time they didn’t know they lost. The house was still under strong supervision and there was no sign of Peter at all, but Stiles didn’t mind. He distracted himself with other things, and he was also anticipating his father’s next move. He knew they will be something to counterattack what happened, the public should know. Though as he was talking to Lydia about it she was very secretive. She said that they hadn’t decided on a public message yet so she can’t really say anything.

But Stiles didn’t have to wait long until his father called everyone in his office.

“Thank you for coming, I know it’s rather busy for you.” Mr. Stilinski smiled as Derek and Boyd arrived last. The only people there with were Stiles and Lydia. And Stiles knew this was it, they will finally know how to proceed and what to tell the public.

“It’s fine Mr. Stilinski.” Derek nodded still with that tight professionalism he carried with himself.

Mr. Stilinski smiled, looking over the people in his office. Though Stiles noticed that there was something in his smile. Maybe sadness?

“Thank you all for coming, again. As you may know it’s time we finally address the attack and how to handle what happened.” he started. Lydia took a deep breath, Stiles figured she already knew what his father will say. “And I decided… that I will disclose the details. That the attack was by shapeshifters and that we don’t know who had initiated the attack, but we are investigating it.”

Stiles licked his lips, suddenly he was excited. He was prepared for this speech, to listen to his father as he will tell them to go on and march on and that the supernatural rights are not in danger.

“I will also go public soon, next Tuesday, and hold a speech.” Mr. Stilinski continued. “I will withdraw from my post.” he said.

Stiles frowned. He tried to put two and two together and the sudden chill down his spine showed him that the others were trying to do the same too.

“What…?” he stuttered.

“I will withdraw from my post, Stiles.” Mr. Stilinski said gently, turning to his son. Stiles shook his head and stood from his chair.

“But that means…”

“That means I will have less influence to fight for the rights of the supernatural.”

“No, no it means you are running!” Stiles snapped, stomping his feet. “It means you gave up!”

“Stiles…” Mr. Stilinski sighed as if expecting this from Stiles, but still he wouldn’t change his decision.

“Did that attack scare you this much?! Really?! Dad, come on, nothing too bad happened!” Stiles tried to say, spreading his arms. “If you quit now who will fight for them?” he asked.

“Someone who’s stronger than me.” his father answered. “Stiles I was thinking a lot about his choice and I still believe this is the time when I admit I give up. The people who attacked us, they were supernatural creatures, shapeshifters. It means it isn’t humans only who don’t want this. Stiles, I can’t fight a battle alone like this.”

“But you’re not alone, dad, there are… many others…” Stiles tried, but as he was saying the words he realized that yes this attack indeed will scare the humans too. If they go public with it, people will tear it to pieces and the conclusion will be that supernatural creatures don’t want equality either. But then what do they want? Scared humans will scream war.

“We were brave, Stiles. But there is a line between bravery and recklessness.” his father said softly. “I don’t want to lose more. I don’t want to lose you, and I don’t want you to lose me. I was working for a better world, an equal word, but in the end you’re the only one that matters to me.”

Stiles felt his throat tighten, he accepted his father’s hug and clung to him tightly. He agreed of his words, but it still wasn’t fair.

“I’m sorry.” Mr. Stilinski addressed the others when he let Stiles go. “I couldn’t do more for you.”

“That’s not true, Mr. Stilinski.” it was Derek who was talking. “You have done more for us than anyone else in this country and we will forever be thankful. For all of you.” he added, looking at Stiles for a moment and the boy felt his heart break. They did fucking nothing for these people…

“That’s very kind of you, Derek.” Mr. Stilinski smiled. “I also wanted you to know that you’re always welcome here. Not as a guard, but as a friend. And all those who are in need, they can still come to us and we will help with the best of what we can.” Stiles nodded too. That was right, he won’t be quivering in fear anymore, he will help. Though it seemed like it was already too late for it.

But that didn’t change the fact that his father was resigning and as far as Stiles knew no one was as active for equal rights. However, they were still keeping their security for which Stiles was actually glad. He would have felt bad if Derek and his men had to leave. Or his pack…

“You don’t feel cheated?” Stiles asked a few days later when he could finally catch Derek during one of his patrols in the garden.

“Why exactly?” the wolf asked.

“Your rights, didn’t you want to have the same rights as a human? Like, buying property without a human’s help or adopt, or get married…” Stiles listed. Derek just sighed, looking at him for a second.

“We have our own rituals and habits, I believe I’ll be fine with getting married by them. Though buying property without all those holds ups would be nice. Also, the members of my pack wouldn’t have to ever be scared that they would not be allowed somewhere.” he added quietly. Stiles sighed, eying the wolf.

“Aren’t you angry?” he asked.

“I am, Stiles.” Derek said. “But it’s not my job, not my task to go out and march for equal rights. I’m not powerful enough. What I can do is make sure my pack can have the fullest life they deserve.”

“But don’t you want more power? Didn’t you ever feel like you need to do something, if you could just grasp a little more power you could change the world?” Stiles asked and Derek stopped in his tracks, turning to him with a strange expression. As if those words were not unfamiliar for him.

“What I have is enough, Stiles. And it should be enough for you too.” Derek said quietly. “Don’t do anything stupid.” he added.

Stiles frowned. He was talking about Derek and not himself.

“Thirst for power is not a good trait.” the wolf added when Stiles didn’t answer.

“But if it’s for a good cause?” the boy asked and Derek shook his head.

“I wish it would be that simple. I feel sad that Mr. Stilinski decided to quit, but I can’t blame him. And I won’t start a revolution, Stiles. With hard work, we can show the world we can be trusted.” the wolf said. “This is my decision and I’ll stick with it.”

Stiles sighed, pocketing his hands. He felt sorry for Derek and he could also understand him. With hard work and meetings and parties he could also try his best with the power he has now. He was the son of Stilinski, he still had some say in politics if he wanted to. But people will also remember how his father was fighting and failed.

“Thanks.” Stiles smiled a little at Derek before he left him, walking back to the house. Derek was trying to tell him not to chase such ideas. Thirsting for power was a bad thing, thought Stiles still didn’t think how, when he would use it for the good thing.

He remembered what the fox told him, he would have given him power and strength for this too. To find his mother's murderer and to continue fighting for the rights of the supernatural. He could have had it all and Stiles felt a hint of regret over it. He shouldn't have listened to Peter.

At the thought of Peter Stiles took in a sharp breath. In these last weeks he was trying not to think about him and if he did he was trying to think of different things. It was working, most of the time. But not during the nights and not when he was jerking off in the shower... Stiles groaned, rubbing his eyes and desperately tried to occupy his mind with something else. Anything else. Not Peter. Not how he was still missing that lying wolf, or what he had told him when he was fighting with the fox. They were all lies.

Stiles wondered how he could still miss someone like that. And then he remembered the scribbled note with the date and nothing else. It was just a note, yet Stiles was thinking about it a lot. Maybe it was Peter who left it? Or someone else? And what did it mean? He threw it out, but he was sure that it wasn't a code, it was a date. In a few days time.  But no name or place.

When Stiles couldn't find distraction he often thought of theories of the origin of the note. The most passable was that it was Peter who left it. But what's the time and place? Peter will come or Stiles will have to go somewhere? Is it a warning or an invitation? Both? But all these were theories and he had no clue what to do with them.

The date written down was already around the corner, in just a few days and Stiles felt a kind of sick excitement thinking about it. He was trying to check the news if there is any kind of anniversary in that day, but they were all so insignificant. They had nothing to do with his case.

And then, on the morning of said date, Stiles received an email. First he thought it was spam and wanted to delete it, though he automatically tapped it on his tablet. There was nothing written in the mail, there was just one picture embedded in it about a rainforest. A jungle. Stiles almost choked on his bacon by the breakfast table.

"Are you alright?" his father asked, looking up from his paper. Stiles just coughed shaking his head and showing it's fine. He needed a few minutes to get himself together and breathe.

"Yeah, fine, peachy." Stiles coughed, clearing his throat and staring at the picture. Was it spam? Was it the other half of the puzzle? Was he going mad? He had one shot and check if one of his wilder theories is real. "I think I'll go out tonight." he said.

His father just sighed.

"Just make sure you submit your location to Derek this morning." he said quietly. Stiles just nodded. Thankfully the strict regime of Hales have ended so Stiles had an easier time to get out of the house. He could also go to school again.

"Yeah, okay..." Stiles nodded.

The message told him about a date and place, but not about the time. If Stiles could he would have fled the moment he got the mail, but the club wasn't opening until the evening. And it was a Saturday. His mind was coming up with all kind if scenarios, all kind of things he could see when he goes to the club. Maybe it wasn't even that club, maybe it really was just a spam... Maybe another shapeshifter will be waiting for him there... Stiles couldn't think of anything else, just to go to the club and see for himself.

He submitted his plans to Derek who asked Boyd to escort him. Thankfully, because Stiles wouldn't think he could have handled Derek during this trip, if it really was Peter who'd meet him.

"Hey, uh... can I ask you a big favor?" Stiles asked as the car was nearing the club.

"Will I regret taking you here tonight?" Boyd asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe." Stiles swallowed. "I want to go alone..."

"Stiles-" the wolf sighed, looking at him in the rearview mirror and the boy shook his head.

"I need to be alone, I mean I won't be able to... you know...  if I know you're watching me. And I'm sure you don't want to watch as I... do things." Stiles licked his lips, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks too. Boyd frowned at him.

"I can be discrete. And if any of those animals hurt you..." Boyd said and Stiles was caught off guard by his sudden protectiveness. For a moment he felt bad for doing this to Boyd, but he needed to know if it was Peter who called him.

"I promise I will come back by midnight?" Stiles started as the guard parked the car one block away. Then he turned to Stiles with doubt on his face. Though as Stiles checked it wasn't doubt, it was concern. "I promise." Stiles started again a bit quieter.

"By midnight, you will be at this same spot, Stiles. And when I call your phone, you pick up otherwise I'll raid the place." Boyd said, smirking as Stiles' heartbeat picked up.

"Alright, I can agree to that..." Stiles swallowed and scrambled to open the door.

"Stiles wait...!" Boyd called and got out of the car too. "You promised to come back." he said. Stiles grinned and saluted him on his run toward the club. He also heard something else Boyd shouting after him, but he didn't stop to ask.

Stiles was in the club no time after bribing the doormen. He vaguely remembered he had gained access the first time he was here too despite he was barely seventeen. As he entered the club and the music that was more like a noise hit him in the chest he felt an excitement he hadn't for a while. Even if Peter won't be here, he will get drunk to his memory and call Boyd to retrieve his drunk ass.

Stiles walked up to the bar, shrugging two already drunk individuals away so he can get his order. As the bartender noticed him he walked up to him.

"Yeah I'd like rum co-" Stiles started, but the guy held up his hand.

"Name?" he asked.

"What...?" Stiles blinked.

"Name. Yours."

"Stiles." he stuttered wondering why this guy was asking his name and not his age. But before he could as the man got a key from his pocket and handed it to him.

"VIP longue. That way." he motioned and turned to tend to another customer.

Stiles stood there baffled for a second, with a key in his hand. Until someone shrugged him away too. He stumbled a little and finally moved to find the longue. The entrance was guarded by yet another doorman. Stiles had no idea just held up the key which had a dark pink keychain on it with a number.

The guard had not said a thing just stepped away from his way. Stiles licked his lips and walked up the stairs. He noted how the noise gotten significantly less. The walls were soundproof. Alright.

Stiles walked on the corridor of doors searching for the number he had on his key. When he found it he opened it, just to find it empty. There was a huge dark pink couch in the middle of the room with a coffee table by it, and an ice bucket with champagne in it. Two glasses. Stiles was getting nervous. He looked around the corridor then in the room, but there was no one around.

He stepped inside the room hesitantly, closing the door. He threw the key down the table, but didn't sit down. He walked round the room, checking it, because it would make him feel better. Stiles liked to know that he wasn't led to his death just now. His fingers were shivering as he stroked the dark purple pattern on the wall.

It was just a room, Stiles thought. Yet he didn't feel less paranoid. As he was thinking about leaving, his phone buzzed. It was Boyd.

"Everything is ok, need a wingman?" the guard teased.

"Very funny, no, I think I--" Stiles wanted to say that he will come back and they can leave. This room was creeping him out and that he felt stupid for coming here and thinking it was Peter’s doing somehow. Maybe it was an elaborate joke someone pulled on him. Or a kidnapping attempt.

But as Stiles wanted to tell Boyd he’s leaving the wall suddenly opened up. The wall had a hidden door seamlessly fitting into it. Stiles wouldn’t have found it only if he was specifically looking for it. And it was opening. Stiles should have expected who would walk through it, and yet he still felt his limbs freeze as a certain werewolf appeared.

“Stiles?” Boyd asked and Stiles realized he wasn’t saying anything ever since the hidden door opened.

“Yes, I mean, no…! I’ll be okay.” he tried to say, clearing his throat. Peter just smirked, quietly walking to the table.

“Are you sure?” Boyd asked, sounding concerned. “If you’re afraid or- Stiles, I’m not sure why you’re doing this, but there must be better ways—“ he started and Stiles closed his eyes for a moment. Once again he felt guilty over this, but there was no way back now.

“Boyd, I- I’m fine, okay? Just let me have this, just let me be a little… irresponsible.” he sighed, opening his eyes and watching as Peter poured some champagne into the two prepared glasses. “I’m about to… you know…” he cleared his throat, and Peter looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “And you’re already ruining my image.”

“It seem like a small price over your safety.” Boyd sounded like he was smiling. “I’ll call you soon, and you better pick up.”

“Yes, yes alright, fine…” Stiles licked his lips and hung up. He was getting too overwhelmed by Peter’s presence, even if he told himself earlier that he won’t. That he was over the wolf. That this was just for curiosity and give it an ending.

Stiles gripped his phone tightly, as if trying to hang onto his sanity, and lowered his hand, watching Peter who put the champagne bottle back into the ice bucket. He was wearing a grey suit, with a red tie. And it looked expensive. Maybe he dressed for the occasion? Stiles licked his lips again, just looking at Peter.

“That’s so James Bond.” he snorted, pointing at the glasses with his chin.

“Never liked the guy.” Peter spoke, clicking his tongue. “Too flashy for my taste.” he added and took a glass, offering it to Stiles.

The boy didn’t move, just watched him. So Peter just shrugged and took a sip himself, eying Stiles.

“Come here.” he said then, holding out his free hand for Stiles.

The boy didn’t move, even if every cell in his body was screaming at him to go to Peter and touch him and kiss him, maybe slap him and put his knee into his gut… But Stiles did neither. He was just standing there, immune to Peter so far.

“No.” Stiles heard himself say before he could realize he was talking. “No, you come here.” he said, motioning toward himself with his phone he was still gripping in his hand. “You come here and fucking explain to me what the fuck is going on! What is this bullshit!?”

“This? This is what I promised to you.” Peter smiled, taking a sip from his champagne. And Stiles noted how he didn’t move from his spot either.

“This room looks like where girls with glitter between their tits dance.” Stiles shot back and Peter snorted, looking around as if this would be the first time he’d see this room.

“Now, you seem to know, don’t you?” he teased. Stiles didn’t bite. He didn’t come here to play, he came here for answers and… to see Peter. After moments too long and too silent for Stiles, Peter was the one who got the other glass and walked up to him, offering it when he reached the boy. “Come on Stiles, celebrate with me.” he smirked.

Stiles swallowed, not taking his eyes off Peter, only for a second when he took the offered champagne.

“Celebrate?” he asked.

“Indeed. That you have found my clues and followed them here.” the wolf answered.

“It wasn’t too hard.” Stiles frowned.

“Of course, I wouldn’t give you the juicy bits just yet.” Peter chuckled, and Stiles noted how his gaze dropped on his lips for a moment. This was dangerous, Stiles knew. To distract himself he took a sip from his glass and stepped around Peter, pocketing his phone. “If you want to, naturally.” the wolf added, turning after him.

Stiles swallowed again, eying the bucket on the table, but he was in deep thought.

“You mean…” he started. He wasn’t stupid. His memory was working too well even and he remembered Peter’s words, every word of his. And how those words made him feel. “Is this about your offer?” Stiles asked.

“What else would it be about?” Peter asked, spreading his arms a little.

Stiles felt a hint of buried pain in his chest. This should be about something else, something more… and he forced himself to be brave and ask about it.

“About us.” he said quietly. He didn’t look at Peter, but heard the wolf laughing softly and walking to the couch to sit down. “Are you laughing at me?” Stiles snapped, turning on his heels to glare at Peter. The wolf was smirking at him, though he shook his head.

“I never laugh at you, Stiles.” he said quietly. “Ever since I had seen your potential, I’m in awe with you.” he added. Stiles felt sudden anger rise in him.

“Ever since you’ve seen that demon fox in me?!” he shouted.

“Oh, he wasn’t even awake when I first got smitten by you.” Peter smirked. Stiles blinked, but before he could ask what the wolf meant he continued. “You were fierce and ready to protect your friend, despite that I was holding a gun to your head.”

Stiles closed his mouth, staring at Peter.

“I meant every word I said back there, Stiles.” Peter continued quietly, putting down his glass on the table. “I rather not repeat them here, but I won’t take them back.”

“You mean… every word?” Stiles couldn’t help but ask, and before he knew it is knees bended and he sat down on the couch too a bit away from Peter. The wolf didn’t answer for a long while.

“It was our mind connected, Stiles, I couldn’t have lied even if I wanted to.” he said then and Stiles wanted to believe him. But he couldn’t ask anyone else, he only had Peter’s word for this, and he really wanted to believe him.

“You have potential, Stiles.” Peter started and slowly moving closer. Stiles raised his gaze at him. “And with my help you can get what you want, you can have the power to-“

“To kill people.” the boy snapped. Peter smiled looking away for a moment.

“To be powerful.” he finished slowly. Though Stiles was still in doubt.

“Why would you want to do this? Why would you… offer me this and pull through? What’s the catch? What’s in it for you?” Stiles asked and Peter’s eyes narrowed for a moment. It was a small victory for the boy, because yes, apparently there _was_ a catch.

“It will save me from a weak point.” Peter said quietly, his eyes flickering over one of the corners of the room for a second. “If I make it a weapon, it’s less likely it will be hurt and with it, it’s less likely it will make me exposed.”

“What…” Stiles felt the air escape the room again, his fingers shivered on the cool glass of his champagne.

“If you haven’t heard me before, Stiles, I meant every word I said back there. And I would repeat them until the day I die.” Peter spoke as a matter of fact and Stiles still felt like he had just shot him numerous times. “And I would whisper it in your ear, into your neck…” Stiles didn’t notice when Peter was so close that his fingers could brush against his neck, but he was. He shivered.

“Peter…” Stiles wanted it to be a warning, because he didn’t want to be controlled. Not now, not with this. This was important, a huge decision, because his whole life will change if he accepts Peter’s offer. “And if I say no?”

“Now, why would you say no, when you smell so eager?” Peter smirked and Stiles huffed. He moved to put down the glass from his hand.

“Stop with this manipulative bullshit and answer me! What if I say no? You’ll kill me, so you won’t have a weak spot?” he asked, calling Peter out. The wolf licked his lips, pulling back his hand.

“No.” he said. “I will give you one last chance for your pathetic life, letting you run around like a poisoned mouse in a maze-“ he continued and Stiles kicked him. Peter didn’t budge. “I won’t kill you, it will be my last favor to you.”

Stiles sighed, eying Peter. For some reason he didn’t have problem accepting this answer. Even though Peter was right, he decided this long ago, the moment it was a possibility that Peter has left the note for him. But Stiles swore that he won’t let Peter lead him by his nose this time, he will stand his ground.

But how hard it will be when Peter was looking at him like he wanted to eat him and Stiles wanted him to? Like this time.

“No more favors.” Stiles whispered then, swallowing. The smile on Peter’s lips was sharp and victorious. But Stiles didn’t care because he was about to cut himself with a kiss. He leaned over, pressing his lips against Peter’s.

The wolf didn’t hesitate to touch him and pull him on his lap as they kissed and Stiles felt like he had found his place finally. He straddled Peter’s thighs and slid his arms around the man’s shoulder as he kissed him again. Shit, he just felt how long it was and how painful he felt without Peter. And that he too was so in love with this ridiculous assassin who offered him power over life and death that there was no way back.

Maybe Stiles wasn’t thinking straight, maybe he was listening to his emotions more than to his common sense, but he was done listening to it anymore. Where did it lead him? Nowhere.

“I love you too, by the way.” Stiles whispered, pressing up to Peter when the wolf pulled him tightly to his body too.

“I know.” the wolf smirked, kissing down his neck.

“Oh don’t go Han Solo on me…” Stiles chuckled, but gave a gasp when Peter changed positions and pushed him down the couch, pressing between his legs. The boy hated how the movement got him excited a bit too much.

“Then shall we raise the rating a bit?” Peter asked and Stiles’ gaze dropped on his red tie. He smirked and reached out for it, pulling it at it.

“Will you teach me how to kill a man with a tie?” Stiles heard himself ask. Peter’s laugh was low and soft as velvet.

“I’ll teach you many things.” he said, letting Stiles take his tie off.

When his mother died, Stiles was too aware of the reds in his life. The color red always filled him with dread, terror and fear. And then this wolf came with the bluest of blue eyes Stiles couldn’t look away when he was riding the waves of pleasure with Peter. And he thought it will be fine. Red was still there, it still made him feel scared, but now he knew there is blue out there too. Blue that will look out for him, seek him and help him. And that was more than enough.

\--

“Well then, shall we go?” Peter asked as he was zipping up Stiles’ fly. He was already dressed too and took it upon himself to dress Stiles. Which was a strange experience. Peter wasn’t too patient when he was dragging his jeans off and practically tearing down his shirt… But when he put all the clothes back he was gentle and soft and Stiles loved it.

“Go…? Where?” Stiles asked, leaning back on the couch as Peter stood up, watching him. He still didn’t feel enough strength in his knees to stand after such a ride.

“To your future.” Peter answered and walked to the hidden door. He pulled it open, motioning toward it. Stiles was watching him over the backrest of the couch, frowning. The cold air from the hidden passageway hit his face. “Away from here.” the wolf added.

Stiles licked his lips and stood up, staring into the dark hallway. For some reason, he took his phone and checked the time. Ten minutes until midnight.

“No.” he said then, eying the screen of his phone.

“What?” Peter sounded genuinely surprised which made Stiles smile a little. He looked up with a small smile.

“If I go with you, I won’t keep my promise to Boyd.” he said.

“And what does it matter?” Peter asked, frowning.

“It matters, cause I’m doing this for them too. I want to…”

“You want to stay in the house?” at Peter’s question, Stiles nodded. “Stiles, baby, it will be much harder if you want to keep living there.”

“Don’t call me that when we’re not having sex.” the boy said. “And I know it will be harder. But I don’t want to just leave. Not now and not like this. There will be a time when I’m ready.” he added.

“No one’s ever ready.” Peter added quietly.

Stiles just licked his lips again and walked to the wolf, leaning in to kiss him. And again. He loved the way Peter’s arm slid around his waist and pulled him closer. As if they didn’t just finish two rounds minutes before.

“I’m definitely not ready now, I need to go back.” Stiles whispered against Peter’s lips. “And you will wait for me, when I can fully join you.” it wasn’t a request.

Peter smirked.

“I’ll get Mahaelani to set up a communication channel for us. It will not be noticed by Derek and his pack.” he sighed, stroking Stiles’ back.

“Oh, it means I get to put up some more cam shows for you sometime?” Stiles teased and loved the way Peter’s eyes flashed up blue just one second.

“I suppose that can also be a part of it.” Peter said.

“I have to go now.” Stiles sighed, and this time Peter kissed him. “I really… have to go…” Stiles repeated when Peter didn’t want to let him go. But then he pulled away with a heavy sigh. “I… I’ll call you?”

“No, I’ll call you.” Peter said quietly. “Now go.”

Stiles actually ended up running out of the room, through the club to the street to the car. Boyd was already waiting for him there, leaning against the car with his phone in his hand. He looked up when he heard Stiles’ steps on the sidewalk.

“Sorry, I’m late!” Stiles panted when he reached him. Boyd just smirked at him.

“I suppose you were caught up in things.” he remarked, raising an eyebrow. Stiles felt himself blush. “I’m glad you’re fine. These were the longest hours of my life.” Boyd sighed and went to open the door of the car.

“Sorry…” Stiles grinned, getting into the car.

On their way back Boyd noted how he was smelling of champagne, sex and happiness. And Stiles just grinned mysteriously. He supposed all those things are indeed true. Even though what he was getting himself into wasn’t happy at all. Especially that it involved Peter. But Stiles was still looking forward to it…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THE NOTES AT THE BEGINNING!! THIS FIC IS NOT BETAED AND IT'S BASICALLY HALF FINISHED.


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